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BRIGADIER-GENERAL CHARLES KIN! I, IT. S. A, 




FROM MARATHON TO SANTIAGO 

Famous and 

Decisive 

DctttleS OF THE 

World 

The ESSENCE of HISTORY for 2^00 YEARS 



With Plans of Battlefields, Maps and One Hundred and Ten En- 
gravings from Paintings by Meissonier, DeNeuville, 
Alma Tadema, Woodville and others. 



BY 

C_>HARLES KlNG, Brigadier-General, U. S. A, 

Author of "Fort Fiayne", "A West Point Parallel", Etc. 



P. W. ZIEGLER & CO. 

PHILADELPHIA and CHICAGO 



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Copyrighted i8H> 

by 
J. C. McCURDY. 

Copyrighted 1899 

by 
J. C. McCURDY. 






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INTRODUCTORY. 



Artists, makers of verse, weavers of romance, chroniclers of his- 
tory even, have drawn inspiration from the battlefields of the world. 
Men admire their pictures and read their works, but the general reader 
and the man with unoccupied half-hours, finds history too erudite ; 
romance too unsubstantial. 

The treatment this volume affords the epochal conflicts of the human 
race, cannot fail to meet with unqualified approval. The plan is 
orderly. The renowned military operations of the world are traced in 
chronological order, from the dawn of authentic history, and include 
the chief activities in the Santiago campaign, during the Hispano- 
American war. The most notable of recorded conflicts are presented 
with studied accuracy, and cover a period of twenty-five hundred 
years. Connecting history has been added whenever compatible with 
the necessity of keeping the work within reasonable limits, yet every 
battle is a full and finished picture. 

The author has brought to his task, military training, literary talent 
of a high order and a constructive ability akin to genius. General 
King is a graduate of West Point, is experienced as a soldier and in- 
structor in military science, and served during the war with Spain. 
This is not his first essay in literature. He is well known to the read- 
ing public as Captain Charles King, the author of numerous charming 
and successful novels of a military type. 

As the " heirs of all the ages , " we inherit a passion for warlike things ; 
we love to read of battles — the most energetic expressions of our hu- 
manity. Arrow flights obscuring the sky; the grappling of mailed 
legions when the world made war a part of its daily life, are things 
that stir our blood. Grim fields where deep-throated cannon bellow, 
and hurtling lead clamors for life, are pictures of delight. 

Fifty-two battles, either decisive in shaping the history of nations, 
famous for displays of daring or celebrated for the development of great 
strategic principles, form the subject-matter of the work, and are por- 
trayed with dramatic fire and brilliancy. They illustrate the sweep of 
the Persian hordes into Europe, and the heroic and triumphant resist- 
ance of Greece ; the rise of Macedon, and her invasion of Asia ; Alex- 
ander victorious at Arbela, and master of the world ; the rise of 
Rome, and her long and bitter struggle with Carthage ; the meeting 
of Hun and Roman at Chalons ; the battling of Saracen and Crusader 
for the Holy Sepulchre; the Norman Conquest of England; the 
bloody contests of the Reformation ; the rescue of Vienna from the 

(1) 



2 INTRODUCTORY. 

Turks ; Sweden's leap into martial fame, and her conflict with Russia ; 
The Thirty Years War ; Frederick the Great fighting encircling Eu- 
rope; France, headed by Napoleon, against the world in arms; the 
war of the Allies against Russia ; the bloody struggles of the Civil War 
in America; Germany's revenge at Gravelotte; the brief collision 
between China and Japan; the war of Intervention, between the 
United States and Spain. 

A wealth of illustration rounds out the volume to more than gener- 
ous proportions. Meissonier, Berkeley, Caton Woodville, De Neuville 
and scores of other famous delineators of battles, are represented by 
their masterpieces. Portraits, maps of countries, plans of battlefields, 
plates showing historic war dress, arms, armor, accoutrements and ord- 
nance, from the earliest times to the present day, have been supplied 
in profusion. 

But war has a deeper meaning for us, now that the Stars and Stripes 
float over the walls of Spain's most affluent colony in the Orient, and 
the inexpugnable valor of our soldiery has given us the picturesque 
city by the Caribbean, named for her patron saint. 

It has been said that " All great historical epochs begin with or end 
in war." Be that as it may, we made history rapidly during the year 
of our Lord, eighteen hundred and ninety-eight. The turning point 
was the tragedy in Havana harbor on February fifteenth. That date 
marked the boundary between old and new conditions, the old and 
new America. The end of the year saw Spain's mission in the New 
World completely ended, and we stood on the threshold of events that 
promised more than the glories of feudal conquest. 

After the epopee of the July days before Santiago, it is mete that we 
acclaim our heroes and publish their deeds. An army raised in a day ; 
corralled like cattle ; shipped to the scene of action between the grimy 
decks of crowded transports, brought about the end of Spanish domi- 
nation in the New World. They slashed their way through thorny 
chapparal ; crawled through malodorous jungles ; clambered up roadless 
mountain sides strewn with ingenious entanglements. They faced 
swift death and dolorous maiming without a murmur. Always wet, 
always hungry, they never wavered, but bore the cross of war, for hu- 
manity, and laid the crown of victory at the feet of the Nation. Let 
us bow to them, thank them, give them of our best. Let us cherish 
the story of their valor and tell it by every fireside. 

The Publishers. 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Abdul Hamid, Sultan 

Acre, Attack on the walls of 

Alamo, Fall of the 

Alexander II., Czar 

Ancient Arms and Accoutrements 

Antony and Cleopatra, Meeting of 

Appomattox, Lee's surrender at 

Arbela, Battle of . 

Areola, Napoleon Bonaparte at 

Arms and Accoutrements of the Middle Ages 

Arms and Accoutrements, 15th to 18th Centuries 

Arms and Accoutrements of the 19th Century 

Arms and Ammunition, 1898 . 

Army Wagon (Tail piece) 

Balaclava, Charge of the Light Brigade 
Black Prince, Congratulating the . 
Blenheim, The attack on the village of 
Bunker Hill, Battle of . 

Chaffee, General Adna R. 
Chancellorsville, Jackson's Attack at 
Chapultepec, Castle of 
Chapultepec, Storming the Castle of 
Constantinople, Entry of Mohammed II. 
Constantinople, Seige of 
Cossacks, On a March 
Cressy, Battle of 

Desaix, Death of Marshal . 

Elba, The Return from 

Frederick the Great 

General Gates, Medal Awarded to . 

Gettysburg, Pickett's charge at 

Grant, General Ulysses S. 

Gravelotte, Charge of the French Curassiers 



847 
217 

574 

597 

38 

165 

719 
81 

433 
208 
278 
789 
921 
956 

587 
227 
321 
406 

908 
658 
582 

583 
248 
250 

839 

218 

458 
524 

374 

428 

673 
710 
821 



(3) 



4 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Gustavus Adolphus ........ 261 

Gustavus Adolphus, Death of 274 

Hannibal Crossing the Alps 96 

Hastings, Death of Harold at 196 

Henry, Patrick . 40 2 

Historic War Dress, Assyrian, Egyptian, Greek, Persian 52 
Historic War Dress, Roman, German, Byzantine, First 

Crusade . . . • • . . .178 

Historic War Dress, Knights Templar, Knight of St John, 

French Knights and Squire, Brothers of the Sword 2 1 2 

Historic War Dress, Burgundians, Soldiers, Knight in Full [ 

Armor ......•• 282 

Historic War Dress, Landsknechts, Drummer, Color Bearer, 

Hussar, Infantryman ...... 3°° 

Historic War Dress, Austrian, Prussian, Polish, Hussar, 

Cavalry Grenadier . . . . • 33^ 
Historic War Dress, Grenadiers, Infantry, Cavalry, French 

Generals ........ 37^ 

Houston, General Sam 57° 

Huns, The 177 

Huns, Pillage of a Roman Villa by . . . .172 

Jackson, General Thomas J 664 

Jena, Marshal Murat at 503 

Jerusalem, Entry of Godfrey de Bouillon .... 207 
Joan of Arc Wounded • .231 

Karl The Great l 9® 

King, General Charles. — Frontispiece. 

King John of France, Last Stand of .... 227 

Lawton, General Henry W 9° 8 

Lee, General Robert E 664 

Leipsic, Flight of Napoleon through .... 546 
Leuthen, Hymn of the Victorious Prussians . . . 3 6 7 

Lincoln, Abraham 779 

Louis XIV. 338 

Malvern Hill, Lee's Attack at .... 622 

Marengo, Charge of the 1 2th Hussars .... 447 

McMahon, Marshal ....... 827 

Meade, General George G "79 

Moscow, Retreat of Napoleon from 5 2 7 

Napoleon I 4S 6 

Napoleon I., Death of • . 5 6 4 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Napoleon III. ..... 

Napoleon, At the height of his Glory- 
Narva, Relief of by Charles XII. 
Nicholas, Grand Duke . 

oudenarde, the elector leading his squadron at 

Pharsalia, Battle of 

Port Arthur, Attack on a Chinese position 
Port Arthur, The Japanese at ....... 

Prince Leopold of Hohenzollern 

Pultowa, Battle of ..... 

Putnam, General Israel .... 

Pydna, Grecian Phalanx destroyed at 
Pyramids, Battle of the .... 

Ramilies, The Attack by Lord Clares Irish 
Roosevelt, Colonel Theodore 
Roman Legion Destroyed at Cannae 
Rouen, Trial of Joan of Arc at 
Rouen, Monument to Joan of Arc 

San Juan, Assault of 

San Juan, Charge of the Regulars . 

Santa Anna, General 

Saratoga, General Arnold wounded at 

Shafter, General William R. 

Sheridan, General Philip H. . 

Sherman, General William T. 

Soldier's Dream, The 

Thermopyl^:, Battle of 
Thomas, General Henry T. . 
Toral y Velasquez, General Jose 

Uniforms, United States Service 

Vienna, Battle of ... 

Vienna, Relief of by Sobieski 
Von Moltke, General 

Washington, General George 
Waterloo, The Sunken Road of Ohain 
Waterloo, Flight of Napoleon after 
Wellington, The Duke of 
William I., Emperor 
Wood, General Leonard . 

Zama, Elephant Charge at . 



785 
512 
297 

833 
349 

160 

875 
886 

801 

304 
402 
152 

442 

334 
908 

115 

241 
242 

912 

947 
576 
420 
893 
774 
744 
703 

4i 
679 

955 
943 
279 
287 
813 
420 

553 
560 
521 

797 
908 

124 



MAPS AND PLANS OF BATTLEFIELDS. 



PAGB 

GREECE. — Giving location of eleven Battlefields : viz, Mara- 
thon, Thermopylae, Plataea, Leuctra, Mantinea, Cynoscephalae, 
Pydna, Pharsalia, Philippi, Constantinople, Magnesia . . 25 

MEDITERRANEAN AND BLACK SEAS, AND ADJACENT 
COUNTRY. — Giving location of five Battlefields in addition 
to the foregoing : viz, Arbela, Cannae, Zama, Jerusalem, and 
Acre 7 1 

EUROPE. — Showing location of twenty-four Battlefields not 
given on other Maps . . . . . . . -225 



Marathon, Battlefield of 37 

Thermopylae, " 46 

Plataea, " 4 6 

Leuctra, " 63 

Mantinea, " 7° 

Arbela, " 93 

Leipsic, " 264 

Blenheim, " 3 2 9 

Ramilies, " 3 2 9 

Leuthen, " 365 

Kunersdorf, " 3^5 

Torgau, " 399 

Bunker Hill and Vicinity 4°9 

Jena and Auerstadt and Adjacent Country 519 

Waterloo, Battlefield of 5^5 

Balaclava, Battlefield of (Bird's-eye view.) 605 

Malvern Hill, " . 627 

Manassas, " 656 

Chancellorsville, " 667 

Gettysburg and Adjacent Country 683 

Nashville, Battlefield of 737 

Five Forks and Vicinity 75 l 

Santiago and Vicinity 9 l8 



(6) 



CONTENTS. 



MARATHON, 490 B. C. 

Darius, King of Persia, 500 b. c. — Vastness of his empire — Grecian and Per- 
sian interests clash in Asia Minor — Darius' bitter resentment against 
Miltiades — Persia makes war on the Greek colonies — Mardonius de- 
spatched with a powerful fleet to sack Athens — His dire misfortune — 
Darius rallies for a final effort — Assembles a great army on the plains of 
Cilicia — Datis the Mede, and Artaphernes in command — They cross the 
^Egean and land at Marathon — Confidence of the Persians — Simultaneous 
rising of Attica — Spartan aid invoked — Platsea to the rescue — Disposition 
of the Asiatics — Their surprise — Impetuosity of the Greeks finally checked 
by the Persian centre — They fall back and entice the Persians in undisciplined 
pursuit, on to the open plain — Greek successes on the right and left — The 
Persians hemmed in on three sides — Fearful carnage — The army of Datis 
in mad retreat — They fly to their ships — Their camp in possession of the 
Greeks — The Persians sail for Athens — Miltiades marches overland to its 
support — Datis, again baffled, withdraws — Athens to the forefront in Grecian 
affairs — Pitiful end of Miltiades — Darius returns to Asia — Greece sees no 
more of the Persians for ten years 2 S~Z"l 

THERMOPYLiE, 480 B. C. 

A. combat renowned in history — Darius resolves to lead a new expedition against 
Greece — Great preparations — Baffled and annoyed, he is seized with a fatal 
illness and dies in the midst of his preparations — Xerxes his son succeeds 
him — Persia's last and greatest effort — The Hellespont bridged — An over- 
whelming Persian force in Europe — Triumphant march through Thrace, 
Thessaly and Macedon — The Spartans under Leonidas seize the pass of 
Thermopylse — An army of nearly 2,000,000 confronted by less than 5,000 
— Xerxes vainly attempts to force the pass — Leonidas' position invincible 
from the front — The second day a repetition of the first — Treachery at work 
— A forgotten path utilized by the Persians — Bitter tidings reach Leonidas on 
the third day — A strong detachment of Persians in his rear — He scorns to 
flee — Xerxes amazed at seeing the Spartans charge his centre — Leonidas 
mortally wounded at last — His little command utterly destroyed — The con- 
queror thunders through the streets of Athens 38-45 

07) 



CONTENTS. 



PLAT^EA, 479 B. C. 



Disastrous defeat of the Persian fleet at Salamis — Leaving Mardonius in com- 
mand Xerxes makes his way back to his capital— Mardonius' attempt on At- 
tica—His insidious offer — Lofty reply of Athens— Sparta withholds her 
assistance— The Athenians again forced to take refuge in their ships— Realiz- 
ing her own peril Sparta finally comes to the rescue— Mardonius takes a 
position in Bceotia — The hostile armies meet near Platgea — Influence of the 
" Oracles" Timelv warning of Alexander of Macedon — The Spartans sur- 
prised—Midnight manoeuvres— Amompharetus the Spartan— Mob-like pur- 
suit of the Persians— Artabazus holds aloof— Pausanias pauses to offer up 
battle sacrifices — " Now, Sparta, advance " — The heavy infantry of Sparta 
literally tears through the Persian army— The hosts of Mardonius a fleeing 
m ob— Treacherous conduct of Artabazus— Greek meeting Greek on the 

(eft The Persians make for a fortified enclosure — The men of Attica carry 

it by storm, and an unparalleled massacre takes place — Persian conquest of 
fireece abandoned after Plataea 4-6-55 



LEUCTRA, 371 B. C. 

(ces»ant waning among the Greek States for the supremacy — Athens sur- 
renders co Sparta — The latter revengeful and despotic — Her former allies 
desert her — Spartan supremacy destroyed — Persia solicits aid to quell a revolt 
in Egypt — Fresh troubles among the Greek States — Epaminondas defiant in 
the council — Character of rhis extraordinary man — Thebes and Sparta at 

war They meet at Leuctra — Superstition aids the former — Superiority of the 

Theban cavalry — The " Sacred Band " — The strength of Sparta wasted 
against the science of Thebes — Death of Cleombrotus and retreat of the Spar- 
tans Epaminondas the conqueror of the time-honored leaders and heroes of 

Greece 5 6 ~ 6 3 



MANTINEA, 362 B. C. 

Thebes and Sparta again meet in battle — No peace between the rival States 
since Leuctra — Description of the field — Composition and strength of the op- 
posing forces — Epaminondas marches to the attack — His strange movements 
puzzle the Spartans — Concluding that he does not mean to attack that day, 
they throw down shield and spear in easy confidence — Screened by his 
cavalry Epaminondas arranges the grand phalanx of Thebes in order of 
battle — Ready and awaiting the signal to advance— Confusion in the ranks of 
allies of the Peloponnesus — Instant overthrow of their cavalry— Epaminondas 
fights in the front rank of the phalanx — Greek meets Greek in deadly grap- 
ple Unable to resist the Theban onset the Spartans fall back in utter rout 

and consternation — Epaminondas receives a mortal spear-thrust while pur- 
suing the fleeing Spartans — The pursuit abandoned — His death paralyzes the 
Thebans — They sign a treaty of peace — Epaminondi^ the greatest soldier 
Greece had yet known 64-70 



CONTENTS. <J 

ARBELA, 331 B. C. 

Rugged Macedon becomes mistress of the Greek confederacy — Its king, Philip, 
trained in the school of Epaminondas — His perfect military system — Philip's 
murder puts his son, the future Alexander the Great, on the throne — He pre- 
pares for an invasion of Asia — His small army the perfected machine of a 
century of experiment — Synopsis of his methods and description of his ar- 
rangements — Alexander a man of superb physique, iron constitution and 
dauntless courage — A new Darius opposes him in Asia — Napoleon's critique 
— Character of Darius — Repeatedly defeated he makes a final stand at Ar- 

\ bela — The empire of the world at stake — First appearance of caparisoned 
elephants in battle — Darius' order of battle — Cautious movements of the 
Macedonian king — He calls a council and explains his plans — Disposition of 
his forces — Persia's opportunity — Failure of the chariot charge — The great 
line of Darius surges forward — Alexander leads an impetuous attack 
on the Persian centre — He makes for Darius — Flight of the latter to the 
mountains — The desertion of the king produces a panic in the Persian centre 
—The Macedonian left utterly surrounded and cut off — Simmais and Cra- 
terus to the rescue of Parmenio — Final and decisive triumph of Alexander on 
the left — The glorious battle of Arbela the most decisive of his career — 
Moral effects of the battle — Dying at Babylon in the midst of his triumphs 
Alexander's great empire is divided among his generals — End of Macedo- 
nian sway in Asia 7 l ~93 

CANN*. 216 B. C. 

Greece's internal dissensions — The rise of two new powers — Rome and Car 
thage clash in a "battle of the giants" — The former claims Sicily — The first 
Punic war — Carthage resolves to conquer Spain — Second Punic war — Hanni- 
bal appears on the scene — Fabius the Roman envoy in Carthage — War de- 
clared — Hannibal's eternal vengeance — Subjugates Gaul — Crosses the Alps 
and enters Italy — Scipio overthrown at Ticino — Battle at the Trebia and 
mother Carthaginian triumph — The Romans fall back to the Adriatic — Rome 

. chooses new Consuls — Another terrible disaster befalls them at Thrasymene — 
Hannibal's new move — Policy of Fabius — Hannibal hemmed in — He again 
outwits the Romans and escapes — Fabius supplanted by Varro and Paullus — 
They establish a magazine of supplies at Cannae — Hannibal dashes in and 
seizes it — A powerful army sent against him — His preparations — The Ro- 
man commanders violently antagonistic in character, plans and methods — 
The far-famed battle-field — Hannibal's matchless cavalry — Final disposition 
of the opposing forces — The battle begins — ./Emilius Paullus severely wounded 
— Varro left to his own devices — Valor of the Roman knights — The Roman 
right swept away — Hard fighting of the left — Varro's cavalry all vanquished 
— The infantry stands firm — A general advance of the Carthaginian line — 
Rome winning in the centre, Hannibal falls on both their flanks and hems 
them in on three sides — He finally grinds the Roman legions to powder- 
All is lost but honor — Death of Paullus and flight of Varro — Hannibal's 
greatest triumph — Rome still unconquered ; .94-115 



10 CONTENTS. 

ZAMA, 202 B. C. 

Apathy of the Carthaginians after Cannae — Hannibal's call for support un- 
heeded — Scipio eventually "carries the war into Africa" — A brief glance 
at intervening events — The success of the Romans in two engagements 
revives hope and confidence — Hannibal wins two more bloody battles — 
— Capua taken by the Romans — The two Scipios killed in Spain — A young 
Scipio at the head of the reorganized Roman army — Fortune favors Rome — 
Success of Scipio Africanus in Spain — He invades Africa — Hannibal called 
home — Carthage sues for peace — A fresh war breaks out — Scipio collects his 
forces at Zama — Hannibal's elephants a source of perplexity to the Romans 
— Their tremendous charge in battle — Tricked into failure by Scipio's well- | 

laid plans — Terrific hand-to-hand fighting between Scipio's legions and Han- '] 

nibal's veterans — Final defeat of the latter — Hannibal's flight — His death by 
suicide — Carthage finally razed to the ground 1 16-124 

CYNOSCEPHALiE, 197 B. C. 

'. > jcay of Macedon under another King Philip — Rome declares war against her 
after conquering Carthage — Rome's military system — Description of the 
legion — Attention paid to physical training — Unpopularity of Philip — Rome's 
pretence for war — Her invasion of Greece 200 B. C. — Achaia joins Rome — 
Strength of the opposing armies — Composition of Philip's army — Encounter- 
in"- the Romans at Cynoscephalse— Confusion on both sides — The phalanx 
breaks the Roman left — Macedonia's left in loose array — Scattered by the 
war elephants — The Roman right wing falls upon them and completes their 
destruction — Consternation everywhere — Macedon's political importance 
gone for ever — Rome undisputed ruler of Southern Europe and Northern 
Africa , 125-135 

MAGNESIA, 190 B. C. 

Division of the empire of Alexander the Great — The portion of Seleucus — His 
great-grandson Antiochus the Great on the throne — His designs on Egypt 
clash with Rome — He invades Thrace — Rome's demand declined by Antio- 
chus — A declaration of war — Total defeat by the Romans near Thermopylae — 
Destruction of the Asiatic fleet at Myonesus — Scipio Africanus carries the 
war into Asia — Alarm of Antiochus — Scipio declines his offer — The oppos- 
ing forces meet at Magnesia — Composition and strength of the two armies — 
The Romans under Eumenes begin the battle — His tactics discomfit the 
Asiatics — Retreat of the phalanx — Helplessness and irresolution of Antio. 
chus' army — The Roman horsemen complete its destruction — Rome " Arbi- 
tress of the world from the Atlantic to the Euphrates " 136-143 

PYDNA, 168 B. C. 
A new ruler in Macedon — His character — Growth of the country since the last 
war — Provisions of the treaty of peace with Rome ignored — The Romans de- 
clare war against Macedon for the third time — They land an army and send 
a fleet into the vEgean — Defeat of their army under Crassus — Inactivity of 



CONTENTS. 1 1 

the fleet — A son of Emilius Paullus finally in command of the army — The 
Macedonians brought to bay at Pydna — Its location — An insignificant skir- 
mish brings on a great battle — Superiority of the Macedonian cavalry — Tac- 
tics of the Roman consul — The Phalangites decoyed into a disorderly pursuit, 
and then turned upon and annihilated by the legion — The last appearance 
of the world-renowned phalanx on any battle-field of fame — The death-blow 
of Macedon — Perseus dies a prisoner 144-152 

PHARSALIA, 49 B. C. — . 

Rome's hundred years of ceaseless warfare — Extent of her Asiatic conquests — 
Julius Caesar rising into great prominence — His quarrel with Pompey — The 
senate decides against the absent Caesar — He crosses the Rubicon and quickly 
becomes master of Italy — Pompey flees to Greece and rallies a new army 
around him — Discipline in the opposing armies contrasted — Strength of 
Pompey's army and navy — Preparations for Caesar's coming — The latter's 
lack of vessels — He evades Pompey's fleet and lands an army in Greece — 
Reinforced by Marcus Antonius — Caesar dashes into Thessaly and seizes sup- 
plies — Pompey follows and overtakes him at Pharsalia — A battle for the mas- 
tership of the empire — Heavy fighting — Caesar's veterans discomfit Pompey's 
cavalry — Utter rout of his army — His flight into Egypt and assassination — 
" Caesar Imperator," the greatest soldier of Rome, the victim of high-born 
assassins 153-164 

PHILIPPI, 42 B. C. 

Effect of Caesar's assassination — Cicero's influence — Antony assumes to act as 
Caesar's representative — Trouble among the conspirators — A new hero appears 
— Caesar's adopted son hurries back from Greece and assumes the name of 
Caius Julius Caesar Octavianus — Antony's amazement — Cicero and five legions 
hasten to the former's support — Sharp fighting — The " Second Triumvirate," 
42 B. C. — Unpopularity of Brutus and Cassius in the Eastern provinces 
— The Triumvirate declares war against them — Black record of the former 
• — Brutus and Cassius await their coming at Philippi — The vision of Brutus — 
He precipitates the battle — Defeat of the Republicans — Suicide of Cassius — 

1 End of the first day's fight — Second day of Philippi — Brutus defenceless — 
Commits suicide — End of the Roman republic — Antony ensnared by Cleo- 
patra — Rupture between Antony and Octavius — The battle of Actium — 
Suicide of Antony and Cleopatra — Octavius becomes Augustus Caesar.. . 165-171 

CHALONS, 451 A. D. 

The beginning of the Christian era witnesses Rome's humiliation — Her inva- 
sion of Britain — She destroys Jerusalem, and a century later subdues the 
Germans — The capital removed by Constantine to Constantinople — Rome's 
decline — Her colonies all Christianized — Attacked by the Huns under At- 
tila — Sketch of him — He invades France — Abandons the siege of Orleans 
and concentrates at Chalon-sur-Mame — Tactics of the allies — A bloody bat- 
tle begins — Defeat of Attila — His retreat — Resolves not to be taken alive — 
Reasons why the allies failed to pursue — The power of the Huns effectually 
broken 172-177 



12 CONTENTS. 

TOURS, 732 A. D. 

Great changes in Christendom — End of the Roman Empire — Saxon conquest 
of Britain — The era of Mohammed — Saracenic conquests — Abderrahman 
crosses the Pyrenees and swoops down upon France — Charles Martel to the 
rescue — " The deadly battle " of Tours, the most important and decisive of 
the middle ages — The Saracens' desolating course — They lose all military 
discipline — Charles Martel takes advantage of this, and assembles an army— 
Abderrahman meets him at Tours — The advantage with the Franks the first 
day — The second day's fierce fighting, and death of Abderrahman — Merci- 
less slaughter of the Moslems — Their power completely broken — Charles 
Martel founds a great empire 178-182 

HASTINGS, 1066 A. D. 

Disruption of Charlemagne's empire with his death — France suffers from the 
Northmen — They settle in the north — Renown of the Norman knights — 
Rival claimants for the English throne — William of Normandy's sharp 
strategy — Harold named Edward the Confessor's successor — His troubles at 
home — William lays claim to his throne — He secures the Pope's blessing 
and prepares to invade England — He assembles a powerful army and 
lands at Hastings, England — Harold prepares to meet him — His position 
and equipments — A great battle impending — Composition of the Normans — 
They begin the attack — Stubborn fighting — King Harold badly wounded — 
A pretended Norman retreat towards evening lures his men out of their 
fortifications — They break ranks to pursue the fleeing enemy — The Normans 
turn fiercely on their pursuers, and rout them with terrible slaughter — Lead- 
ing Saxon nobles killed — William of Normandy, now William the Conqueror, 
King of England — Elevation of the Normans and depression of the Saxons — 
England a gainer by the conquest 183-196 

JERUSALEM, 1099 A. D. 

The Saracens still dominant in Asia and Africa — Europe under the sway of 
Rome — Pilgrimages to the Holy Sepulchre — Short-sighted conduct of the 
Turcomans — Indignities to the Pilgrims — Peter the Hermit and Walter the 
Penniless — The Crusades — Their object and character — The march to Pales- 
tine — Terrible reverses to the advance-guard — Great military leaders to the 
front, under Godfrey de Bouillon — Jerusalem besieged — Activity of the Infi- 
dels — Furious and long-continued assaults of the allied Christians — -God- 
frey's vision — Renewed vigor of the attack — Jerusalem falls — Indiscrimin- 
ate massacre — Nearly a century of Christian rule — Rise of a new Infidel 
champion — His successes 197—208 

ACRE, 1191 A. D. 

Richard I. on England's throne — Rome preaches a new crusade, which he 
undertakes — Emperor Frederick of Germany and King Philip of France 
join him — Family quarrels — Acre besieged — Knightly conduct of Saladin — 
Incessant and terrific fighting — Surrender of Acre — Richard inarches on to 



CONTENTS. 13 

Ascalon — He wins the immortal name of Cctur de Lion — Concludes a truce 
with Saladin — Richard's domestic troubles — His untimely death — End of 
the Crusades a century later 209-217 

CRESSY, 1346 A. D. 

The age of gunpowder — Hereditary trouble between England and France — 
The Jatter country invaded and many peaceful villages sacked — Philip of 
France raises an army and encounters the English at Cressy — King Edward 
gives his son a prominent command — Fearful odds against him — Tumultuous 
approach of the French — The struggle begins — Moral effect of the English 
artillery — Heavy and determined fighting — Edward's message to his son — 
Utter defeat of the French — Mortality among their distinguished leaders — 
The " Order of the Garter " — Other English successes 218-227 

ORLEANS, 1429 A. D. 

Continued troubles between England and France concerning the crown of the 
latter — France again invaded — Defeated and disheartened the French retire 
to Orleans — The English lay siege to it — Artillery used on both sides — 
Heroic defence of the city — Imbecility of the king — Three women to the 
rescue — Joan of Arc — Her history — In command of the French, and leading 
the assault, banner in hand — A terrible battle ensues — Complete overthrow of 
the English — Charles VII. crowned — Joan defeated in a subsequent battle and 
taken prisoner — Barbarously treated, and finally burnt by the English — The 
latter lose their hold on France 228-242 

CONSTANTINOPLE, 1453 A. D. 

Foundations of the city — " The Empire of the World " — Its numerous sieges — 
Its decline in the fifteenth century — Differences between the Greek and 
Roman Catholic Churches — The latter fail to assist in repelling the Infidel — 
Sultan Mohammed II. lays siege to it — His great army and ponderous artillery 
— His fleet — Brave defence of the garrison under Constantine — The offer of 
Mohammed declined — The final grand assault — The Janizaries — Death of 
Constantine — Surrender and pillage of the city — End of the empire of the 
East — Politic conduct of Mohammed Bujuk - . 243-250 



LEIPSIC, 1631 A. D. 

The Thirty Years' War the outgrowth of the Reformation — Great military 
chieftains — The countries involved — Gustavus Adolphus — His genius — Re- 
organization of the military system under him — His aid solicited by the Protes- 
tants of Germany, and his triumphant march to join them — Encounters the 
Imperialists under Tilly at Leipsic — Confidence of the latter — Allied order 
of battle —Heavy fighting — Final and utter defeat of Tilly — Moral effects of 
this great Protestant victory — New complications 25 1-264 



14 CONTENTS. 

LUTZEN, 1632 A. D. 

Gustavus Adolphus — Conqueror, judge, and lawgiver — Tilly's death and Wal- 
lenstein's humiliation — Character of the latter — His reinstatement to oppose 
his great rival — They meet at Liitzen — Strength of the opposing armies — 
Their relative positions and order of battle — The night before the battle — 
The allied army begins the attack — Wallenstein surprised — Death of Gusta- 
vus Adolphus — Renewed energy and fervor of the allies — Pappenheim arrives 
— His death — Last hope of the Imperialists — Wallenstein retreats during the 
night — Again deposed from command — His assassination — New complica- 
tions — Turenne and Conde appear 265-278 

VIENNA, 1683 A. D. 

Its position and liability to attack — Besieged by the Grand Vizier Kara Mus- 
tapha — Flight of the Emperor — Count Staremburg undertakes the defence — 
Vigorous investment by the Turks — Suffering in the city — Leopold appeals 
to John Sobieski for assistance — Three other powers join him — The march to 
relieve the beleaguered city — Attacking the Turks — Discipline and valor of 
the Polish cavalry — Rout and disorderly flight of the Turks — Vienna saved 
— End of Turkish aggression — Ingratitude of Austria 279-287 

NARVA, 1700 A. D. 

The successors of Gustavus Adolphus— Character of Charles XII. — Secret 
plots of neighboring sovereigns — Resolution of the Swedish King — He takes 
the field and humbles Denmark — Meanwhile Poland assails Riga, and Russia 
lays siege to Narva — Unmindful of Augustus of Poland, he moves on 
Peter the Great— Character and genius of the latter — Charles attacks the 
besiegers of Narva — Great disparity in the strength of the rival forces- 
Fiery impetuosity of Charles— One -third of the Russian army captured, and 
the remainder killed and dispersed — A glory to Sweden and a blessing in 
disguise to Russia — The prelude to Pultowa 288-297 

PULTOWA, 1709 A. D. 

Amazement of Europe — Philosophical view of Peter the Great — Charles turns 
on Poland — Artifice of Augustus — He is dethroned — Charles is visited by 
Marlborough — The former's ambition — He invades Russia in midwinter 
— Marches on Moscow — Winning victories everywhere — Running short of 
supplies his generals urge him to await the arrival of the Polish allies and 
his provision trains — Incapable of realizing his danger, he immediately turns 
south and marches into the wilds of the Ukraine — Sufferings and demorali- 
zation of his army — Besieges Pultowa — Great odds against him — The 
Swedes overwhelmed — Charles wounded — His flight to Turkey — His sub- 
sequent career and tragic death — Policy of Peter the Great — His great 
achievements , . 298-307 



CONTENTS. 1 5 

BLENHEIM, 1704 A. D. 

A war contemporaneous with that of Charles XII. and Peter the Great — The 
Golden Age of France — Her great captains — Grasping policy of "Le Grand 
Monarque" — A powerful league formed against him — Death of William III. 
of England — The brilliant Duke of Marlborough in command of the Confed- 
erates — His character — Influence of his wife at court — Eugene of Savoy 
second in command — They are everywhere successful — The French and Bava- 
rians concentrating at Blenheim — Careful preparations on both sides — Irish- 
men in the French service — The great struggle begins — The earlier advantages 
with the French — Marlborough's mistaken supposition — The British line recoils 
—Eugene finally turns the allied left — Attack on the French centre — The 
English cavalry complete their defeat — Marshal Tallard a prisoner — The 
gathering darkness favors the escape of his shattered army — The power of 
Louis XIV. broken — A glorious victory for England 308-328 

RAMILIES, 1706 A. D. 

After their defeat at Blenheim the French march into Holland — Honors to 
Marlborough at Vienna — The rival armies confront each other at Ramilies 
— Their strength — The destinies of the Netherlands, the issue — The French 
overconfident — The attack begins at noon — Villeroy, the French commander, 
misled by Marlborough's movements — Prince Eugene absent on other duty 
— Hard fighting — The Dutch and German cavalry in confusion — Marlbor- 
ough's personal danger — French lines driven back and defeated after three 
hours' fighting — Marlborough's unerring judgment — Effect of his wife's impe- 
rious temper — Serious French losses — The waning power of Louis XIV. re- 
ceives another blow — Exultation in England 3 2 9~338 

OUDENARDE, 1708 A. D. 

Bitter experience of Louis XIV. — -Reverses in Spain — His army again in the 
field — Dissensions among the Confederates in the Low Countries — Marl- 
borough and Eugene again to the front — The French lay siege to Oudenarde 
— Its position — Incompetence of the Duke of Burgundy — The French out- 
manoeuvred—Amazed at the rapid movements of Marlborough — Vendome 
attempts to retrieve their evil fortunes — Brilliant work of the Confederate 
cavalry — Renewed blundering of Burgundy — Furious charging and counter- 
charging — Bravery and firmness of the Confederate cavalry leaders — The 
decisive move of the battle at 6 p. M. — The last hope of Burgundy gone — 
Fearful carnage on both sides — Darkness saves the French from utter annihi- 
lation — Louis XIV. makes proposals of peace — His efforts to recall Eugene 
of Savoy — Public thanksgiving in England — Marlborough's victory at Mal- 
plaquet — His invincibility in the field — His troubles at home 339~35 2 

LEUTHEN, 1757 A. D. 

Frederick the Great, the most renowned general of this period prolific of great 
warriors — An age of three great epochs — Eccentricities of Frederick's father 
2 



16 CONTENTS. 

— The Seven Years' War — Prussia's perfect army — Menaced by encircling 
Europe — Frederick's tactics — He darts upon the Austrians first — The great 
baitle of Leuthen a masterpiece of movements, manoeuvres and resolution — 
Preliminary movements and incidents — Frederick hurries on to Leuthen to 
give battle to an overpowering force of Austrians and Saxons — His movements 
amaze his enemies — Daun superseded and his counsels ignored — The 
Austrians march forward to open battle with Frederick — His memorable ad- 
dress — His strategy — His far- famed oblique order — Consternation of the 
Austrians — Their left wing in disorder — Terrible fighting around Leuthen — 
Lucchesi trapped and killed — Utter rout of the Austrians — Their enormous 
losses — The most decisive of all of Frederick's victories — Maria Theresa 
relieves Prince Charles and reinstates Daun — Prussia once more in possession 
of Silesia 353~3°8 

KUNERSDORF, 1759 A. D. 

The Russians now assail Frederick — The bloody and destructive battle of 
Zorndorf — His fourth campaign — He introduces to the military world the first 
battery of horse artillery — Frankfort-on-the Oder seized — Location of Kuners- 
dorf, and the position of the allied Austrians and Russians — Frederick again 
surprises them — He meets with an intelligent peasant whom he interviews — 
He finally storms and captures the Miihlberg — The grandest sight of Kuners- 
dorf — Soltikoff rallies his Russians — The Prussians repeatedly repulsed — 
Loudon's superb Austrian grenadiers — Despair of Frederick — "The conse- 
quences of this battle will be worse than the battle itself" — His army prac- 
tically annihilated — The blackest day Prussia had ever known — Russia and 
Austria fail to follow up their great opportunity — A barren triumph — Jealousy 
in the Russian ranks robs Loudon of his due merit — Frederick himself again 
in six weeks. 369-385 

TORGAU, 1760 A. D. 

The inaction of Frederick's adversaries enable him to assemble another army 
— His fifth campaign — His fortunes at their lowest ebb — Fairly in the toils 
of encircling Europe he turns upon his enemies like a hunted lion — Daun 
again in the field at Torgau — Frederick outwits him another time — The 
situation — The battle opens — Ziethen's premature move — Frederick furious 
— Magnificent charge of the Prussian grenadiers — Terrible slaughter of 
Frederick's choicest troops — Daun's left in grievous disorder — Ziethen's 
night attack — Darkness and confusion — Complete rout of the Austrians — 
The pursuit — The king embraces Ziethen — The treaty of peace — France gives 
up the contest — Frederick the Great, lord of Silesia — End of the " Seven 
Years' War " — Prussia the acknowledged military leader of Europe. . . .386-399 

BUNKER HILL, 1775 A. D. 
Quarrel between Government and Colony — Eloquence of Patrick Henry — The 
appeal to arms — The Minute Men — The British at Salem — The march to 
Concord — The alarm at Lexington — The British attack — The avengers — 



CONTENTS. IT 

The British retreat — The despised militia — The guns of the fleet — The 
Breach widening — The contagion of patriotism — Connecticut sends troops 
— Israel Putnam — New Hampshire and John Stark — New York in line — 
Baltimore sends men — The Patriots at Cambridge — Ethen Allen at Ticon- 
deroga — At Crown Point — Benedict Arnold — The Provincial Congress — 
General Gage — His offer of Pardon — Prescott sent to Bunker Hill — The 
march — The Hill fortified — Discovered by the British — Entrenching under 
fire — Gage sends troops — Prescott halts the British advance — Stark joins 
the Patriots — Warren volunteers — Pomeroy arrives — The first attack — 
Charlestown burned— The Patriots hold their fire — The British run — The 
second attack — The British again defeated — Clinton brings more troops — 
The third attack — The breastwork destroyed — Americans short of ammuni- 
tion — One last volley — Hand to hand — At the point of the bayonet — No 
pursuit — British losses — The American dead — Effect of the battle 400-409 

SARATOGA, 1777 A. D. 
The story of the revolution— Saratoga one of Creasy's " Fifteen Decisive Bat- 
tles of the World "—Sketch of Burgoyne— He is opposed to the employment 
of Indians as allies— Account of the opening of the campaign— Failure of the 
British Expeditions of St. Leger and Baume — General Starke's brilliant ser- 
vices — Gates supersedes Schuyler — The situation on his arrival — Burgoyne's 
position — Strength of his forces — His attack on Arnold's division — The Brit- 
ish repulsed — Enthusiasm caused by Arnold's appearance — Critical situation 
of the British — Failure of Clinton to relieve them — Their offer to capitulate 
— Gates finally accedes to their proposition — The refusal of Congress to ratify 
his terms — Backbone of British aggression broken — France comes to the aid 
of the Colonies — The scale turned 410-428 

MARENGO, 1800 A. D. 

Childhood of Napoleon Bonaparte — His character as described by the Military 
School — His predilection for artillery — A lieutenant in this branch — His early 
career — Backed by prominent and influential men, he obtains promotion over 
others above his rank — His vehement ambition aroused to feverish activity — 
In command of the army operating in Italy — He overthrows five Austrian 
armies in succession — Amazing the world by his marvellous skill — His Egyp- 
tian campaigns — First Consul under the new constitution — His wonderful 
passage of the Alps — Confronts de Melas, the veteran Austrian commander — 
Lannes and Desaix with Napoleon — Relative strength of the opposing armies 
■ — They meet on the plains of Marengo, Italy — Three able generals, Lannes, 
Victor, and Murat, with the First Consul — The Austrians' first attack a failure 
— Wearing out the French — The day going badly with them — The " Man of 
Destiny" on the scene — Lannes' superb courage saves the army from total 
destruction — De Melas considers the day won — Reckoning without his host 
and Desaix — Arrival of the latter with his corps on the battle-field — " There 
is yet time to win another " — Death of Desaix — Fearful rout of the Austrians 
— Their army in Napoleon's grasp — "What a glorious day" — Marengo gives 
France an emperor 429-45S 



18 CONTENTS. 

AUSTERLITZ, 1805 A. D. 

The honors conferred on Napoleon, and the extension of his power excite the 
jealousy of England and Austria — The former his most implacable enemy — 
The coalition against him — Concentrating the French army at Boulogne — 
His strategy — He falls suddenly upon General Mack in the Castle of Ulm, 
compels him to surrender, and then seizes Vienna — Russia to the rescue — 
Strength of the Grand Army of the Empire — Famous French leaders in 
command — The opposing army — A look at the battle-field — " Behold the Sun 
of Austerlitz " — The anniversary of his coronation — "Forward, Soult, cut 
them in two ! " — Terrible fighting — The Russian centre pierced — A tremen- 
dous cavalry fight — Forty thousand horsemen engaged — The infantry and artil- 
lery cease fighting to look on — The Russian right ruined by Lannes, the hero 
of Montebello — Second great cavalry combat — Annihilation of the Russians 
and Austrians — Napoleon's relentless severity — " Soldiers, I am satisfied with 
you " — End of the third and greatest coalition against France, after three 
months' duration — Austria thoroughly humbled — The treaty of Presburg — 
" The Confederation of the Rhine " 459-4^4 



JENA, 1806 A. D. 

The dread of Napoleon's ambitious designs — He sets up kingdoms for his 
brothers — Prussia declares war against him — The former still living on the 
reputation of Frederick the Great — Napoleon's tactics again misleads his 
enemies — Strength and movements of the contending armies— Concentrating 
at Jena — The old Duke of Brunswick in chief command of the Prussians 
— The king and court in confusion — The French on a commanding height at 
Jena — " Vive L' Empereur'''' — Ney's eagerness — A bloody and terrible com- 
bat rages — The Prussians defeated and panic-stricken — The Saxons the last to 
yield — Bravery of the Prussian officers — Mortality among them — Summary 
of Prussia's losses — Davout's decisive work at Auerstadt <485 _ 5°5 



AUERSTADT, 1806 A. D. 

Davout encounters a large division of the Prussians at Auerstadt— Brunswick's 
great blunder — Napoleon's orders to Davout — Character of the latter — Pit- 
ted against enormous odds — Bernadotte fails to lend him assistance — Marshal 
" Vorwaerts " appears for the first time against the French- — His character- 
istic traits — A tremendous struggle around Hassenhausen — The key of the 
situation — The Duke of Brunswick mortally wounded — Bliicher's ineffectual 
charges — His protestations in council unheeded — A retreat decided upon — 
Davout leads a charge — A decisive and glorious victory — Sore trials of the 
King of Prussia — His army annihilated — The French in Berlin — Napoleon's 
next move on Russia 5°6-5 19 



CONTENTS. 19 

WATERLOO, 1815 A. D. 

Napoleon at the zenith of his power in the winter of 1808 — Having humbled 
Austria he resolves to invade Russia, against the advice of all thinking coun- 
selors — The retreat from Moscow the story of his downfall — The nations of 
Europe make common cause against him — The allies win Leipsic — " The 
Battle of the Nations " — Napoleon an exile in Elba — Europe again thunder- 
struck — "The Man of Destiny" reappears at the head of the "Old Guard" 
— England heads the new alliance against him — Description of the various 
armies put into the field — Anxiety of the allied leaders — Napoleon in Bel- 
gium—His plans for crushing the allies — Ill-success of some of them — 
Ligny and Quatre Bras — Concentrating on Waterloo— A look at the field — 
Strength of the rival armies — Napoleon eager for battle — Anxiety concerning 
Grouchy — Disposition of Wellington's forces — The French order of battle 
— Napoleon's last review — Hougomont invested — The emperor's old tactics 
— Wellington inquiring for Picton's division — Terrible fighting everywhere — 
Death of Picton — The French on Mont St. Jean — Brilliant work of the 
Highlanders and Inniskillings — "Where is Grouchy?" — Ineffectual assault 
on Hougomont — Bliicher appears on the French right at seven p. M. — Last 
salute of the "Old Guard" — The French army cut to pieces — Fearful losses 
on both sides — Napoleon a prisoner on St. Helena 520-566 

THE ALAMO, 1836 A. D. 

The Texan Revolution— Disheartened leaders — Old Ben Milam — San An- 
tonio de Bexar attacked — Street fighting— Death of Colonel Milam " The 

Priest's House " — General Cos capitulates— Humane Terms — The new 
Republic — Approach of the Mexican Army — San Antonio garrisoned — 
Travis — Bowie — Crockett — The Alamo — Its defences — Santa Anna reaches 
San Antonio — The Blood-Red Flag — Travis appeals to Fannin — Travis' 
letter — Santa Anna invests The Alamo — Skirmishes — Arrival of Captain 
Smith— Travis' force— A council of war— Assault of The Alamo— Second 
assault — The third attempt — The Heroes cut down — Deaths of the leaders 
— No surrender — No retreat — The sacrifice for country — Mexican brutality 
—The survivors 567-1576 

CHAPULTEPEC, 1847 A. D. 

An ancient Aztec city — The capital of the Republic — A garden spot — Actions 
previous to Vera Cruz— Bombardment of Vera Cruz— Fall of the city— 
Cerro Gordo — The spoils of two months — Actions after Cerro Gordo — 
Chapultepec in the way — Description of the Fortress — Barring the road to 
the capital — The last link — The prelude to the assault — The wild onrush — 
The Mexican resistance — The broken acclivity — Driving back the enemy — 
Over the parapet — Planting the colors— The valiant dead — Quitman's as- 
sault — Across the meadow — The coveted wall — Hand to hand conflicts — 
Resistance in vain — The prisoners — Casey wounded — Volunteers vie with 
Regulars— With colors mingled — The death-strewn gullies — General 
Pillow on the Mexican strength — Wonh at San Cosme — Quitman at Belen 



20 CONTENTS. 

— Santa Anna abandons the city — Childs besieged in Puebla— Lane's oper- 
ations—Affairs in California and New Mexico — The treaty of Guadalupe 
Hidalgo — How American valor was illustrated 577-5^2 

BALACLAVA, 1854 A. D. 

"The Charge of the Light Brigade" — The many lessons of this war — Its 
origin — How England and France came to take a hand in it — The first time 
in 500 years that they fight side by side — The Crimea invaded — Composition 
of the English invading force — A look at their leaders — The policy that 
dictated their selection — Russian cavalry assault — The Turks driven out of 
their works in great confusion — Pomposity and stupidity of Lord Cardigan — \ 
Charge of the "Heavy Brigade" — Blundering of the Russian general — 
Brilliant individual exploits — Alexander Eliot — Insufferable arrogance of 
Lord Lucan — Raglan's famous order — Misunderstandings concerning it — 
Enthusiasm of Captain Nolan — The eyes of five nations on the " Six 
Hundred" — Darting into death, utterly without support — Captain Nolan the 
first victim — The Light Brigade forced to turn back — Two-thirds of 
them killed and wounded — " It was a mad-brained trick " — Efforts in 
England to shield Lucan and Cardigan — "A peer of England cannot blun- 
der" — Kinglake's conscientious history — Admiring Frenchmen say of the 
charge : " It is magnificent ; but it is not war " 585-620 

MALVERN HILL, 1862 A. D. 

Federal dash at Mechanicsville — On to Richmond — McClellan's promise — 
Anxious delays — The patient President — Emory's mud march — Martin- 
dale's gallant fight — McClellan's studied annoyances — Seven Pines — Fair 
Oaks — " Masterful inactivity " — Stuart's raid — Hooker at Oak Grove — 
Battle of Mechanicsville — McClellan retreats— Gaine's Mills — A Confeder- 
ate victory — Lee seeks McClellan — McClellan's objective — Malvern Hills 
— Lee's pursuit — Jackson at bay — Glendale — Longstreet fights McCall — 
Cooper and Randall lose their guns — McClellan on the Galena — The battle 
fought by his subordinates — Defences of Malvern Hill — McClellan still on 
the gun-boat — Lee attacks — The Confederates beaten back — Porter re- 
pulses Magruder and Huger — Up to the muzzles — The Union line un- 
broken — Tier upon tier of guns —Lee desperate and reckless — The second 
attack — The merciless fire — The maelstrom of death — The gun-boats take a 
hand — Fleeing from the Golgotha — Union forces victorious — Lee's army in 
confusion — McClellan's losses— The campaign ended — Harrison's Landing 

— The army disheartened 621-628 

MANASSAS, 1862 A. D. 

Political events that culminated in war — Accession of Lincoln — Military spirit 
of the South — First attempts to coerce the seceding States — The movements 
on Richmond — Halleck and Pope loom up — McClellan obliged to fall back 
— General Lee marching northward — Stuart in Pope's rear — Stonewall Jack- 
son's audacious move — He captures the Union army's supplies — Pope's great 
opportunity — Jackson outwits his antagonists — Taliaferro and Ewell pounce 



CONTENTS. 21 

on Gibbon — Jackson's celebrated division finds its match — Disappointment 
of Pope over Stonewall Jackson's escape — Confusion on the Union side — 
McDowell's conflicting orders — Longstreet reaches forward to seize the 
heights that commanded the Northern lines — A desperate crisis — An ap- 
palling struggle around Groveton — The Federal army falls back — Generals 
Kearney and I. I. Stevens killed — The South jubilant — The national for- 
tunes at their lowest ebb 629-656 

CHANCELLORSVILLE, 1863 A. D. 

Condition of the Army of the Potomac — General Joseph Hooker — Inactivity — 
Cavalry raids — Condition of Lee's army — Moseby's raid — Stoneman seeks 
Fitzhugh Lee — Hooker sends Meade, Howard and Slocum to Chancellors- 
ville — A remarkable march — Sedgwick's feint— Sickles' stealthy march — 
Disposition of Lee's forces — Early at Fredericksburg — Jackson joins Ander- 
son — Marching on Chancellorsville — Sykes fights McLaws — Jackson and 
Slocum grapple — Back to Chancellorsville — Councils of war — Lee adopts 
Jackson's plan — A bold movement — Birney detects Jackson — The twenty- 
third Georgia — Reinforcements for Sickles — Howard's Corps at supper — 
Jackson's irresistible charge — The Unionists panic-stricken — The contagion 
spreads — Jackson checked — Flight of the Eleventh Corps — Sickles in a 
tight place — Pleasanton to the rescue — The Eighth Pennsylvania — Jackson 
plans a second attack — Shot by his own men — Hospital at Wilderness 
Tavern — Jackson's death — Grief of his troops — Reynolds joins Hooker — 
Stuart's attack — Sickles' bayonets — Hooker wounded — Couch in command 
— The Confederates occupy Chancellorsville — Sedgwick captures Freder- 
icksburg Heights — Wilcox meets Sedgwick — Salem Church — The tide of 
battle — Sedgwick falls back — Crosses the Rappahannock — Hooker retreats 
to Falmouth — Losses 657-668 

GETTYSBURG, 1863 A. D. 

Emboldened by success General Lee decides to invade the North — Antietam a 
fruitless victory to the Union arms — Concert of action among Southern gen- 
erals, and its lack among those of the North — Bravery and determination of 
the rank and file of the Union army in spite of repeated defeats and disasters 
— General Halleck — Lee marches into the North — Hooker considers himself 
hampered by orders from Washington and resigns — George G. Meade the 
new commander — The Southern leaders that confronted him — Strength of 
Lee's army — Sketches of Northern generals — Both armies concentrating at 
Gettysburg, Pa. — Its location — The battle begins — Death of Reynolds — 
Hancock arrives at 5 P. M. — End of the First Day's battle with odds against 
the North — The Second Day — Meade rearranges his army during the night — 
Lee's plans — Longstreet's attack on Little Round Top, the key of the Union 
position — Both sides fight like demons — Death of Generals Cross and Zook 
— End of the Second Day — The odds again slightly in favor of the South — 
Meade summons a council — The Third Day — Lee's attack on the Union 
centre — An assault that reminds one of Ney and the Old Guard at Waterloo 
—Hancock sustains the brunt of this onset — Dauntless bearing of Pickett's 



22 CONTENTS. 

, liell — Hancock master of the situation — The Virginians annihilated — Meacte 
linally victorious — Lee sullenly withdraws southward next day — Enormous 
losses on both sides — The fall of Vicksburg, July 4 — Hope reviving in the 
North — The tide turned 669-708 

NASHVILLE, 1864 A. D. 

The year 1863 one of disaster for the South — The three rising generals of the 
North, in the Western armies — Grant, lieutenant-general of the armies of the 
United States — Previous discord in the Army of the Potomac — A vigorour 
prosecution of the war determined upon — Grant " on to Richmand," and 
Sherman "marching to the sea" — General Thomas' important trust — Hood's 
Napoleonic idea — A glance at the former's situation — The battle of Franklin 
— Nashville and its fortifications — Impatience with Thomas at headquarters 
— His masterly strategy — On a level with the tactics of the victors of Leuthen, 
Austerlitz, and Jena — The great battle begins — "Old Slow Trot" out-gen- 
erals Hood — The Confederate left turned — Their leader baffled, beaten, and 
bewildered — End of the first day — Hood's disposition of his forces during 
the night — Their new position carefully studied by Thomas — Again pounced 
upon and driven back — A scene of wild enthusiasm in the Union army — 
Hood thoroughly defeated — Demoralization attending his retreat — His losses 
— Estimate of Thomas' ability as a soldier — His prominence in the war — 
His theories of a campaign — One of the noblest figures in American his- 
tory 7°9-737 

FIVE FORKS AND LEE'S SURRENDER, 1865 A. D. 

The Army of the Potomac in front of Petersburg — Its terrible experience since 
Gettysburg — Meade's attempted surprise at Mine Run and its failure — War- 
ren unjustly censured — The North sore at heart — Grant and Sheridan called 
from the West — The former in chief command — His methods — Mortality in 
the Wilderness — The mine fiasco at Petersburg — Good news from Sherman 
and Thomas — Sheridan to the front — A glance at the map of the country 
over which the final struggle took place — Brilliant work of the cavalry — 
" Let us end this business here" — Grant's army as reorganized for the spring 
campaign — The final move on Lee — Lincoln's last visit to headquarters — 
Grant assaults Petersburg — Sheridan on Lee's flanks — Impatience of the 
former with Warren — The failure to entrap Pickett — Sheridan and Warren 
contrasted — Continued fighting — Ayres captures a whole brigade — Death of 
General Winthrop — Pickett's left and centre routed — Warren's decisive 
charge — His suspension from command the saddest feature of this brilliant 
day — Five Forks a brilliant tactical battle — One-third of Lee's army de- 
stroyed and taken prisoners — " I have ordered an immediate assault along the 
lines"— Lee fights to the last— Death of A. P. Hill— Flight of Jefferson 
Davis — Fall of Richmond — Lee retreats fighting fiercely — He hopes to effect 
a junction with J. E. Johnston at Danville — Grant's and Sheridan's determi- 
nation — Five successive days and nights of vehement, never-relaxing pursuit 



CONTENTS. 23 

and combat — Lee's heavy losses — Grant asks him to surrender and avoid 
further bloodshed — Custer destroys Lee's provisions — Sheridan squarely 
across the Confederate army's track — The white flag hoisted — Meeting of 
Grant and Lee to arrange the terms of surrender — Striking contrast between 
the two great leaders — Lee's fortitude gives way — The last of the Army of 
Northern Virginia — Number of men that surrendered — Johnston surrenders 
to Sherman — The Rebellion at an end — The assassination of Lincoln changes 
joy to mourning in the North 738-781 

GRAVELOTTE, 1870 A. D. 

Early life and adventures of Charles Louis Napoleon — His unscrupulous 
methods for securing power — Efforts for the glory and progress of France — 
His part in the Crimean war and subsequently in Mexico — Intriguing by 
turns with Austria and Prussia — Perfect military system of the latter — Her 
splendid cannons and small arms — Needle-gun and Chassepot compared — 
Memories of Magenta and Solferino — The Napoleon gun and the mitrailleuse 
— Strength of the French army on paper — Vigilance and activity of Prussia 
— Her condition in 1870 — The king and his able ministers — Napoleon's mis- 
calculations — The troubles concerning the Spanish crown afford him a pre- 
text for provoking war with Germany — Previous active preparations of both 
nations — Difference in the results — War declared by France — " On to Berlin" 
— The German and French leaders and their commands — The emperor and 
Louis to the front — The German Crown Prince defeats MacMahon and 
seizes the key to Alsace — Von Moltke's precise calculations — Bazaine soon 
shut up in Metz — Resistless advance of Prussia — Gravelotte — Location of the 
field — The French fearfully outnumbered everywhere, and gradually falling 
back — Bazaine battered out of Gravelotte and his right enveloped — The 
heights in front of the town held by the French — Repulse of the Germans 
— Friedrich Karl's army to the rescue — Final Prussian success — Frightful 
losses on both sides — Bazaine still shut up in Metz — MacMahon falls back 
on Sedan — His position immediately attacked by the Germans — Wounded, 
he turns over the command to General Wimpffen — Napoleon III., despair- 
ing and broken-hearted, surrenders himself and the army — Jena avenged — 
Capitulation of Metz — France's utter humiliation — Her enormous indemnity 
to Prussia, and loss of territory — Profiting by her sad experience 782-831 

PLEVNA, 1877 A. D. 

The Russians and Turks again in conflict — A war that followed closely on that 
of France and Germany — The causes that led to it — Turkey's discontented 
provinces — Russia declares war — Turkey's fighting strength — An army splen- 
didly equipped with rifles and artillery, but badly managed — Inferiority of 
the Russian arms and equipments — -A well-disciplined army — The Cossacks 
— Russian disadvantages — Her activity and Turkey's inertness — A powerful 
Russian army in Turkey — -Their eariy successes soon lead one army into a 
trap— First battle of Plevna — The Turks victorious — The second battle of 



24 CONTENTS. 

Plevna, July 30 — Strong position of the Turks — Autocratic orders of the 
Russian commander-in-chief — An immediate attack ordered — Murderous 
work of the Peabody- Martini rifles of the Turks — First appearance of Skobe- 
leff in the war — Another grievous Russian disaster — The third attack on 
Plevna — Russia and Roumania on hand with 100,000 men — Osman Pasha's 
extensive preparations — The Russian plan of attack — The former again 
victorious — Description of the battle — Skobeleff' s brilliant and desperate 
charge — Causes of this great defeat — Russia now sits down before the gates 
of Plevna and starves out Osman Pasha — His final surrender — Turkey hum- 
bled — The Treaty of Peace as ratified by the Powers 832-870 

PORT ARTHUR, 1894 A. D. 
An inevitable collision — Claims of each nation — Corea — A land of contention 
— War declared — Japan invades China — A Chinese naval station — Strategic 
importance — Defences of Port Arthur — The town invested — The key of the 
Position — The first shot — The Chinese reply — A Japanese charge — The flag 
of the Rising Sun — The Chinese Fly— A counter-attack — General Nishi to 
the rescue— Ffasegawa and the northeast Forts — The Pine Tree Hill Forts 
— The forts taken — The Japanese break cover — Swarms of riflemen — A hail 
of bullets — The Japanese fleet — Port Arthur in the hands of the Japanese 
— The Hakuaisha — Japanese hospitals — The massacre — Stories of eye- 
witnesses — Piteous deaths — Japan disgraced — Retaliation for Chinese 
atrocities — Peace negotiations — Li Hung Chang attacked by a fanatic — 
The Treaty 871-891 

SANTIAGO, 1898 A. D. 

Landing of the Marines — The Army of Invasion — Theodore Roosevelt — The 
Armada — The Landing — The Rough Riders — First Encounter — The Land 
Crab — Wire Barricades — The Regulars — Journalistic Clamor — Barbed 
wire entanglements — The flower of the army — A Happy-go-lucky Advance 
— The Cuban Contingent — Points of Vantage — Walls of obstinate growth — 
La Guasimas — A herculean climb — The Army Fighting on — Springfield 
vs. Mauser — El Caney — The Thirteenth Regulars — The gatlings grind 
out death — Chaffee at El Caney — Capron's merciless guns — Haskell and 
the Seventeenth — A Tooth and Nail Conflict— Exhausted Surgeons — El 
Pozo — Mapping the Way — Through dense chapparal — A glimpse of Santi- 
ago — Uncanny forms of nature — The Red Cross Samaritans — Unwilling 
Witnesses— The Tenth Cavalry— How it Feels to be Hit— The Color- 
Sergeant's Story — Under the Balloon — Bullets tears seams in the hot air 
— The Hill and the Fence — The Hospital Corps — Death in torrents — Kent 
and Sumner — Hawkins' Tranquillity — Forcing the wire networks — " Not 
War, but Magnificent "—The Death-dealing Hill of San Juan — The Two 
Captains — Charge of the Regulars — The downpour of Mausers — Story of 
the Ants — " How's the Sixteenth?" — Human Ammunition — Sharpshooters 
— Trudging to Siboney — Medical Attendance — General Toral — Shaffer's 
Demand — The Capitulation — The Two Armies 892—956 




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FAMOUS AND DECISIVE 

BATTLES OF THE WORLD. 



MARATHON. 



490 B. C. 




IVE hundred years before the birth of Christ 
the known world was almost one vast em- 
pire, with King Darius, of Persia, at its head 
His possessions included all of Asia west of 
the upper Ganges, all of Northern Africa, 
far west as where Tripoli now stands, and 
much of European Russia and Turkey. 
Rome had not yet risen to power or great- 
ness, but between the dominions of Darius 
and the vast field of Europe there lay a little rocky peninsula, 
jutting down into the sea, washed by the JEgean on the east, the 
Mediterranean on the south and west. This was Greece, a con- 
federation of sturdy little states, and Greece it was that proved 
the sentinel that stopped the way of the Eastern invader. But 
for Greece all Europe would have been overrun by the conquer- 
ing armies of Persia. 

Immense wealth and unlimited forces were at the disposal of 
the Great King, as Darius was termed. He had conquered 
nation after nation around him, but up to 500 B. C. had made 
no aggressive move at the expense of Greece proper. Macedon 
and Thrace to the north of it had succumbed, and most of the 
isles of the Grecian Archipelago, in the ^Egean Sea, were sub- 
dued. Vague rumors had reached the Persian court of the 
warlike character of some of the states of the Peloponnesus, as 
the lower peninsula was called, and that northeast of the ictlimur 



26 MARATHON. 

of Corinth lay another powerful and vigorous little common- 
wealth, Athens. The Greeks had established colonies all along 
the coasts of Asia Minor, and through them much of the civil- 
ization and something of the literature of Persia had drifted 
into the young confederacy, and though Sparta repelled all that 
savored of the luxury and effeminacy of Persian civilization, 
Athens had been more eager to learn and to adopt. 

Presently Persia began to demand tribute of these colonies. 
The colonies resisted, and called for aid from the mother coun- 
try, and a desultory warfare sprang up along the shores of Asia 
Minor. As a rule the Greeks were defeated. Persia's people 
were numerous, the colonists few, and their troops untrained 
irregulars, but the ill feeling between Greece and Persia was 
rapidly becoming intensified. Years before, when on an expedi- 
tion to conquer Scythia, Darius had nearly been sacrificed by 
the attempted treachery of a young Athenian officer, Miltiades, 
who at the time was governor of the Thracian Chersonese, and 
had to serve under the Persian king. Against him he ever after- 
wards cherished a bitter resentment. Then in 510 B. C, after a 
mighty effort, the Athenians had succeeded in banishing the 
tyrant Hippias, who took refuge in the Persian dominions, and 
being a man of vast energy and intrigue, set to work to revenge 
himself on Athens by inducing Darius to invade and punish her. 
Artaphernes, Satrap of Sardis, demanded of Athens that Hippias 
should be reinstated. Athens refused, and voted Hippias a rene- 
gade and traitor. Then the Ionic Greeks revolted against Arta- 
phernes and Persia. Athens lent her aid, and for years Persia 
was involved in a stubborn contest for the resubjugation of the 
Greek colonies. 

During this war Sardis, the capital of Artaphernes, was cap- 
tured and burned by a small force of Athenians, and now the 
rage of Darius against Attica was complete. Barely waiting to 
complete the subjugation of the Ionians, he despatched Mar- 
donius with a powerful fleet of triremes and a large army to sack 
Athens, and take or destroy its inhabitants ; but dire misfortune 
overwhelmed the fleet. A terrible storm off Mount Athos 
wrecked the armada, and strewed the shores with the corpses of 



ATHENS AND SPARTA DEFIANT. 27 

twenty thousand seamen, while the camp of the land force was 
surprised by night. Mardonius was wounded, and returned to 
Persia broken and dejected. 

And now King Darius rallied all his energies for a final effort. 
Orders were sent to all his seaports. Vessels of war, triremes, 
and transports were rapidly built and launched, and from far and 
near his allies poured in their contingents. The whole area of 
the Peloponnesus could not equal that of the smallest of the 
principalities that bent the knee to Persia, and it looked like a 
war of all Asia against one little state. Greece was wild with 
alarm at the news ; only Athens and Sparta seemed to retain 
either spirit or composure. 

As a preliminary, Darius sent heralds to all the Greek isles 
and cities to demand the customary tribute of submission, earth 
and water, and both from sea and mainland token after token 
was rendered with eager haste. But no word came from either 
Athens or Sparta. At last Darius heard that the citizens had 
seized the persons of his heralds, heaped indignities upon them, 
cast them into dungeons or wells, and this was an outrage equal- 
ling the violation of a modern flag of truce. It was now war to 
the knife. 

Through Hippias Darius learned that the regular army of 
Athens consisted of only ten thousand hoplites, heavy-armed 
infantry. Of course he knew that community of interest would 
bring reinforcements from other states, and that vigorous defence 
might be expected. He intended to conquer all Greece, but to 
crush to atoms the power of the defiant young states that had 
dared outrage his heralds. 

For this purpose the force which was assembled on the great 
plain of Cilicia and in the adjacent waters was simply overpow- 
ering. Six hundred armed triremes or ships of war with three 
banks of oars, and full as many transports for horse and foot, 
were moored along the shores, and in the spring of 490 B. C, 
the greatest flotilla and the most numerous army ever yet massed, 
even by mighty Persia, set sail for Greece. The command was 
vested jointly and equally in two men, an arrangement that in 
itself was faulty in the last degree, but appears to have been 



28 MARATHON. 

made for political reasons. For the first time in Persian history 
a soldier not native Persian was raised to the highest rank. 
Datis, a Mede of great valor and long-tried excellence in war, 
was the first named. He commanded the respect and confidence 
of the entire army, but Darius, though wishing to avail himself 
of the great ability of this general, dare not trust him entirely, 
and so named as his colleague Artaphernes, son of the Satrap 
of Sardis, who had done so much to bring about the war, and 
whose loyalty was unquestioned. His son therefore was named 
to act with Datis, but more probably as the representative of the 
royal or noble families at the front, than because of any known 
ability or skill. In all that followed, judging from the accounts 
of the only historians who dwell at all upon the campaign — the 
Greeks — Artaphernes seems to sink out of sight, and Datis only 
is recognized as the moving spirit. 

His orders were explicit. Generally to subdue all Greece. 
Specially to destroy Athens and Eretria (who had acted together 
in burning Sardis), and bring their people as slaves into the 
presence of the Great King. 

Datis decided on a different route from that taken by Mar- 
donius. He coasted along Asia Minor westward until he came 
to Samos, then turned square across the ^Egean. Island after 
island fell before him, and yielded conscripts to his army. Naxos 
was burned, Delos spared as the birthplace of Apollo, and at 
last the fleet anchored off the shores of the long, finger-like 
mountainous spur that stretches down along the coasts of north- 
ern Greece, the island of Eubcea, and hereon, facing the narrow 
channel that separates the island from the mainland, lay the city 
of Eretria. It too fell before the overwhelming force of Datis, 
and its people were dragged off as prisoners to neighboring isles 
to await the return of the triumphant Persians from the destined 
sack of Athens. 

Late in August, unopposed, Median Datis disembarked his 
immense army upon the plain of Marathon, with the capital, 
Athens, only one day's march away. Literally, thus far, had he 
carried out his orders. Easy victory had everywhere attended 
him ; and as his brilliant host marched forth upon the plain, 



THE ARMY OF ATTICA. 29 

stretching for miles along the shore, no wonder he looked upon 
further triumph as already within his grasp. Behind him, thickly 
dotted over the ^Egean, were the conquered isles, now turned 
into supply depots or prison pens. Along the shore were beached 
his thousand ships. Between him and the broad expanse of 
plain to the westward lay his great army. Beyond his lines only 
a short mile of unobstructed meadow there rose parallel to his 
front a sharply defined range of hills ; behind that barrier, Athens. 

In slow, stately ceremony had he accomplished the disembark- 
ation. Once ashore, no signal came for the expected advance. 
He cared to give none till every detail of preparation was com- 
plete. Hippias, too, advised the policy of delay. That arch 
traitor well knew the under-current of disloyalty beneath the 
tide of Athenian patriotism. " Spare your soldiery," he urged, 
" wait but a few days and your mere presence here will fan into 
flame the embers of insurrection, and Athens herself will open 
unto you." And so in idleness and easy confidence the Persian 
host was disposed along the plain, and the golden moment passed. 
Before the setting of a second sun the thickly wooded barrier to 
the front blazed with the sudden sheen of spear, shield, and 
helmet, and the army of Attica appeared before their eyes. 

Each one of the ten tribes of Attica contributed its thousand 
to the regular army, and these were the men who marched for- 
ward to the crest of Pentelicus — the low range that stood between 
their city and the plain — and there confronted the countless 
thousands of Persia. Of the exact numbers of Datis on the day 
of Marathon we have no accurate information. Herodotus, the 
most truthful of historians of the day, limits his land force to one 
hundred and ten thousand, while the poets and the boastful 
legends of local writers carry the number up to half a million. 
At least estimate it more than five times outnumbered the force 
Athens was able to bring against him, for, in addition to her 
ten thousand heavy infantry, the regulars, there were ten thou- 
sand light troops. The former were rigorously trained to athletic 
pursuits, were stalwart, sinewy, warlike men, armed with long 
and heavy spears and short swords for close combat, equipped 
for defensive purposes with heavy helmets, breastplate, greaves 



30 MARATHON. 

for the legs, and carrying on the left arm a massive shield that 
well-nigh covered the entire person. The light troops wore no 
defensive armor, but carried javelins and short swords. All were 
footmen (Athens had no cavalry) ; and this was the slender force 
with which they hoped to repel the advance of the Asiatic host. 
The far-famed plain of Marathon lay about twenty-five miles 
northeast of Athens, separated from it, as has been said, by the 
range called Pentelicus. It was nearly a level, except where a 
water-course, dry through most of the year, ran like a shallow 
groove from west to east through the middle of the plain. From 
the foothills to the sea in the centre was about two miles ; but 
north and south, six miles apart, the hills swept around to the 
eastward, hemming in the level ground and dipping their bases 
in the spray. At both ends, north and south, lay treacherous 
marshes, impassable for horsemen and forming admirable protec- 
tion for the flanks of an army in position. They stretched some 
distance towards one another and limited the dry ground between 
them to a front of not more than three miles ; and here it was, 
half a mile advanced from the shore, that Datis had drawn up his 
line of battle. Just where he posted the fine cavalry he had 
brought with him from Asia we have no account. It has been 
asserted by some historians that much of this arm had been left 
behind in the various islands to hunt down the hiding inhabi- 
tants, and that but a small portion of his horsemen appeared at 
Marathon. 

Soon as it became known that Datis was threatening the coast, 
Athens sent couriers southwest to Sparta, invoking her aid ; but 
the Persians landed on the sixth day of the moon, and the Spar- 
tans were compelled by religious superstition never to send forth 
a hostile army until after the full, and refused to deviate from their 
custom even in such emergency as this. Then it was that the 
great men of Athens sprang to the fore, and foremost among 
them was Miltiades, the same who had won the enmity of Darius 
years before. As a soldier and general this man well deserved 
the confidence reposed in him, though in personal and political 
history he proved to be far from pure. The delay of Sparta 
seemed only to add to his vehement energy and courage. The 



PLAT^A TO THE RESCUE. 31 

eleven generals of Athens met in immediate council, and Mil- 
tiades became the chief speaker. His service with the Persian 
army in the Scythian campaign had taught him contempt for 
much of its material, and he sturdily proclaimed his belief in the 
ability of Athens to defeat Datis then and there, and so urgent 
and earnest was he in his reasoning that he carried conviction to 
the minds of four at least of his colleagues. On taking the votes 
of the ten generals it was found that Miltiades, Aristides, and 
Themistocles, the three leading men of Athens at the time, with 
two other generals, were for immediate attack on Datis as he lay 
along the sea at Marathon. The other five generals voted for 
delay until aid could reach them. The deciding vote now lay 
with the Polemarch Callimachus, and to him Miltiades appealed 
with such vehement soldierly eloquence that Callimachus voted 
fight. 

Then came a welcome accession to their ranks. The little city 
of Plataea, over in Bceotia to the northwest of Athens, had once 
besought her aid when she was being crushed by a powerful 
neighbor — Thebes — and Athens had gone to the rescue. Now, 
as ever afterwards, Plataea came to stand by Athens. She sent a 
sturdy little contingent of one thousand heavy infantry — all she 
could spare — and these soldierly fellows, in their leather helmets, 
marched in along the slopes of Pentelicus and were posted on the 
extreme left of the Athenian line. 

And now there was inaction for several days. Datis was in 
no hurry to bring on an engagement. Miltiades was eager, but 
the law of Athens required that each of her eleven generals 
should command one day at a time in rotation, and he could not 
assume the authority to order attack until his day for supreme 
command arrived. It is asserted that Aristides and others 
waived their rights in his favor, urging him to lead on when he 
would and pledging earnest support. It was well for Miltiades 
that he had such patriotic and magnanimous associates. Calli- 
machus was noble by birth, noble by nature, and brave and wise 
as he was noble. Aristides and Themistocles were both men 
of the people, widely differing in character, and destined to be 
bitter rivals subsequently. Aristides had no superior in path- 



32 MARATHON. 

otism, in nobility of character, and integrity. He was surnamed 
" The Just." Themistocles was superior to him in brilliancy, 
readiness, and tact, was besides an innate politician, a man of 
boundless ambition, but of so jealous a nature that the honors 
heaped on Miltiades after Marathon deprived him of sleep. In 
all his public life, despite his eminent services, there clung to him 
a suspicion of corruption and extravagance that ultimately was 
realized to the full and proved his ruin. He swindled his people 
and died in disgrace. Of the other generals we have very little 
record. 

From the heights on which they stood Miltiades could mark 
the indications of easy confidence which pervaded the entire Per- 
sian camp. Directly in his front, occupying the Asiatic post of 
honor — the centre — were the native Persians and the Sacse, the 
very finest troops of the line, the only ones probably inspired 
with any national pride or patriotism. On these were deployed 
the vast army of auxiliaries, " mountaineers of Hyrcania and 
Afghanistan, black archers of Ethiopia, swordsmen from the 
banks of the Indus, the Oxus, the Euphrates, and the Nile," — a 
superb army in point of numbers and brilliancy of attire ; but no 
defensive armor was there to be seen, no protection beyond the 
light archer's shield. Their arms, too, were weak and puerile 
compared with those of Greece — bows and arrows, light javelins, 
and curved cimeters. There was nothing to dread in their equip- 
ment, and Miltiades knew it. It only remained for him so to 
dispose his men as to make the best use of their limited number 
against the overwhelming force of the foe. 

Here he had the advantage. He could see every move of the 
enemy, while his own were hidden by the heights and the thick 
growth of olive, pine, and cedar with which they were covered. 
Everything goes to show that to the element of surprise Miltiades 
owed much of the success that awaited him. 

The ordinary formation of the Athenian phalanx of that day 
was in eight ranks, but in order to cover the Persian front Mil- 
tiades was compelled to reduce the depth to four ranks. His plan 
was daring. Placing Callimachus in command of the right wing 
with massed phalanxes in heavy charging columns, the Platseans 



THE SUDDEN ATTACK. 33 

and two Athenian tribes being similarly disposed on the left, he 
deployed his remaining troops between them in long, slender 
line of battle and gave this line in charge of those steadfast sol- 
diers, Aristides and Themistocles. With steady generalship in 
the centre he had sublime confidence in the result. 

It must have been about three o'clock on the afternoon of the 
1 Oth (probably) of August Thousands of the Persian soldiery 
were dozing, gambling, or sleeping away the hot summer day, 
the thousand ships of the fleet dotted the curving shores or 
danced upon the blue waters of the bay ; the tents of the Asian 
host stretched like a great populous city along the plain ; arms_ 
were cast aside, all thought of danger banished. Before them 
stretched that long level barren back to the mountains ; and even 
were Attica to advance, long before her lines could cross that 
plain the troops of Asia could spring to arms, form their ranks 
and welcome them with deadly flights of arrows — that is, pro- 
vided Greece advanced to the attack, as was her custom, singing 
her war-songs, sweeping in slow, stately march. 

Suddenly there comes a chorus of warning yells from the open 
plain, suddenly the camp rings from right to left with the wild 
blare of horns and trumpets sounding the alarm. Hastily the 
warriors spring to arms and run to the lines. Sentinels and 
pickets are rushing in — no use for them to stop in vain attempt 
to stem the coming tide ; they dart through friendly openings in 
the forming ranks, and Persia looks forth upon the unobstructed 
plain. There, midway to Pentelicus, with burnished helmet, 
shield, and spear, with ringing war-cry and serried ranks that 
sweep the full length of those of Asia, with perfect alignment 
and terrific impetus, for the first time in her history Greece comes 
charging at the run. 

" Gods ! are they madmen ? " is the cry. So few in number — 
dare they attack ? 

On they come, unhesitating, unshaken. The solid earth trem- 
bles beneath their tramp. The red sun behind them glares 
through the dust-cloud at their backs. Flash go the feathered 
arrows from thousands of Persian bows as the mail-clad lines 
come dancing into range ; but they rattle harmless upon helm 



34 MARATHON. 

and shield, and with ringing cheer the athletes of Attica charge 
headlong upon the unready lines of astonished Asia. 

Here in the centre stand the best and bravest Knighthood of 
The Great King, the elite of a superb army ; but against this 
rush and against those levelled spears they for the moment can 
oppose nothing but puny dart and unprotected breast. Down go 
the foremost, and over their prostrate forms sweep the ranks of 
Attica. Down goes the second line, where line has formed at 
all ; but with all its wild impetus and glorious manhood and 
courage, Greece is driving home into a solid mass of humanity, 
for the foremost recoil upon their backers, and they in turn upon 
rallying thousands in the rear. The great spears — so terrible 
against the leading lines — must be withdrawn before they can 
repeat their work, and even then are becoming unwieldy in the 
surging crowd that now envelops the phalanx ; and now the 
Persians sweep in between the spear-heads and assail with cim- 
eter and dagger the armored Greeks. Dozens crowd upon one, 
and the triumphant rush of the Athenian centre is at last 
checked. The lines of Aristides and Themistocles are brought 
to a stand. 

And now is Persia's turn. The archers spring in, delivering 
their fire almost in the faces of their foes, while the knights and 
the Sacae are plying cimeter and dagger. The slender line of 
Athens is slowly crowded back by the weight in front, but 
-^steadily, slowly, for their generals are watching every move. 
The lines are unbroken, the organization is maintained, but, face 
to the foe, battling manfully, the Grecian centre is undoubtedly 
falling back across the plain of Marathon and along the dry 
water-course that divides it. And now, with rage and tumult, 
Persia follows. Order, rank, discipline, all forgotten, if ever 
known, they press in wild disorder upon the retiring spears. 
Leaving camp, leaving all behind them, bent only on the annihi- 
lation of that daring foe, looking neither to right nor to left, 
caring naught for comrade assistance in this supreme hour of 
triumph, reckless of their own flanks and rear, the Persian army 
of the centre is artfully enticed out upon the open plain. 

Meantime, how has it fared with Callimachus — how with the 



RETREAT OF THE PERSIANS. 35 

Platasans ? Opposed by full as many foes as the centre, they 
have to deal only with hirelings or unwilling conscripts, even 
with kinsmen — Greeks of Ionia. These fall before them, barely 
striking a blow, and on the right and left the auxiliaries of Persia 
are overthrown and hurled back by the deep charging columns 
of Attica and Plataea. Pursued by the leading phalanx, they 
dare not stop ; and now, on right and left, except the leading 
phalanx, the deep masses halt, and face inwards. Between them 
the Sacae and the Knights, the guards and the flower of the Per- 
sian army, are being lured out from their supports, pursuing in 
a blind ecstacy of victory. 

All too late Datis sees the fatal blunder. North and south 
the spearmen of Platsea and Athens have closed upon the surg- 
ing mass of his best and bravest. On three sides the resistless 
infantry of Greece hems in the hapless Persians, and now the 
carnage begins. For a while the Asiatic host fights bravely, 
desperately, but soon turns and flees for the ships and safety. 
From north to south, along the plain of Marathon, the entire 
army of Persia is in mad retreat. 

But brave men are yet there. While some launch the vessels, 
embark the few horsemen and the wounded, thousands face the 
charging lines and keep the Greeks at bay. Bent on the capture 
of the ships and the annihilation of the army of invasion, Mil- 
tiades furiously urges on his lines. A desperate hand-to-hand 
conflict is maintained even in the surf along the shore as the 
vessels are launched upon the waves. Like the bowmen of 
Duke William at Hastings long afterwards, the archers of Asia 
now shoot upwards that the arrows may fall in the faces of the 
foe. The battle has been hot and fierce. The sun is setting 
behind the range to the west, and still the desperate fight goes 
on. Some few ships are seized and fired by the Greeks, but, 
covered by the dauntless rear-guard of Datis, the embarkation 
goes steadily on ; and as they at last fall back to the ships and 
the well-nigh exhausted Greeks plunge into the waves in pursuit, 
many there fall weighed down by their armor. Here it is that 
brave Callimachus receives his death-wound, and Stesilaus, an- 
other general, is killed. With the exception of six or seven 



36 MARATHON. 

destroyed by fire, the last Persian galley pushes forth from the 
shore and Marathon is won. 

Now, panting and triumphant, the Athenians betake them- 
selves to the joyous work of plunder. Yonder stands the rich 
camp of Persia, and the spoil far exceeds their wildest dreams. 
The plain is strewn with Persian dead, especially along the water- 
course which marked the fateful track of the centre, and Mil- 
tiades, receiving the congratulations of his generals, begins to 
realize the magnificence of his victory. 

Even now the skill and wariness of the soldier do not desert 
him. Watchful eyes have noted a blazing light upon the rocks 
southward where the headland Sunium juts out into the sea.- It 
is a signal-shield inviting the vanquished still to come to Athens, 
now defenseless in the absence of her soldiery. Southward, too, 
far as the eye can reach, the ^Egean is dotted with the myriad 
sails of the hostile fleet, some already rounding the distant cape. 

Loud ring the trumpets recalling the wearied but exultant 
Greeks ; and leaving Aristides with his tribe to guard the cap- 
tured camp, Miltiades leads his worn-out army back towards 
Pentelicus. Despite fatigue and disappointment, discipline pre- 1 
vails, and through the still, moonlit August night the battle-worn 
army marches back to Athens ; and when morning dawns and 
the eager fleet of Persia comes swarming vengefully up the bay, 
lo ! the heights are crowned by the very troops who had so com- 
pletely overmastered them so short a time before ; and, baffled 
and broken, Datis signals withdraw. The great Persian expedi- 
tion is at an end and the tide of her conquests checked forever. | 

And now Athens springs to the foremost rank in Greece, for 
all the sisterhood of states sing her praises. Before her almost 
unaided arms the host of the Great King has fled, dismayed, 
leaving its stores and treasure and six thousand four hundred of 
its dead upon the field. Athens has lost but one hundred and 
ninety-two. All too late a Spartan phalanx had reached the 
field, and, after seeing the swarms of Persian dead, went home 
to exult over the great victory. The dead of Athens were 
gathered under one mound, those of little Platsea under another, 
and eventually a third was erected in honor of Miltiades himself 



THE ARMY OF ATTICA. 



37 



It is pitiful to think of his subsequent history. Taking ad- 
vantage of the enthusiasm and confidence of the people imme- 
diately after Marathon, he induced them to fit out and give 
him command of a secret expedition, which he assured them 
would yield great profit to Athens. It turned out to be a mere 
raid upon the neighboring island of Paros to satisfy a personal 
hatred against one of its prominent citizens. The expedition 
was a failure, and Miltiades himself, tricked into a midnight 
rendezvous with the so-called priestess of the temple, fell in the 
darkness, sustained severe injuries, was recalled in dishonor, and 
died at Athens in disgrace, the wretched dupe of a woman. 

Marathon checked at once the hopes and schemes of Darius, 
sent the discomfited fleet and army back to the shores of Asia, 
and roused the valor and enthusiasm of Greece to the highest 
pitch. As a purely military state Lacedsemon still held the lead, 
but in all that related to national affairs and speedily in all that 
concerned her naval force and policy, Athens by her great vic- 
tory rose to the first rank. For ten valuable and well-improved 
years the shores of Greece saw no more of the Persian invaders. 




THERMOPYLAE. 



480 B. C. 




T cannot be claimed that this was a great battle, 
but as a combat renowned in history for chivalric 
devotion and valor, its incidents can never lack 
interest to either soldier, scholar, or casual 
reader. 

After Marathon, when Datis and his defeated 
army returned to Persia, King Darius seems to 
have been stunned by the force of the blow, so 
much so that he forgot even the destined ven- 
geance on the prisoners brought from Eretria. 
He soon rallied, however, and resolved upon an 
expedition that should far exceed in strength and numbers either 
that of Mardonius or the later one of Datis and Artaphernes. 
The aim of his life became the utter humiliation and conquest 
of Greece. 

Once again the edict went forth, and Persia resumed the great 
work of preparation. Once again Darius himself decided to lead 
in person. Three busy years were spent in building ships, 
transports, and assembling the levies of troops ; then his Egyptian 
provinces broke into open revolt, and before he could resume 
operations in Europe he had to quell this rebellion. It took 
time, baffled and annoyed him, and in his impatience and vehe- 
mence told upon him to such an extent as to accelerate if not 
develop the fatal illness which seized him and ended his life in 
the thirty-sixth year of a glorious reign. 

Influenced by his queen, Atossa, Darius had named as his suc- 
cessor his younger son, Xerxes, and confided to him the execution 
of his plans. Just five years after Marathon Xerxes took up the 
sceptre. Historians say he was the handsomest and most stately 
(38) 




ANCIENT ARMS AND ACCOUTREMENTS. 

( For description, see next page. ) 



Ancient Arms and Accoutrements. 

Numbers refer to Illustrations on preceding page. 



I. 


Shield of Macedonian 


Hy- 


25. Roman Helmet. 




paspist. 




26. Persian " 


2. 


Early Greek Helmet. 




27. " Shield. 


3- 


Later " " 




28. " Bow. 


4- 


Early " " 




29. " Shield. 


5- 


Greek Shield. 




30, 31. Roman Lances. 


6. 


Etruscan Sword. 




32, 33, 34. Roman Field Stand- 


7- 


Persian " 




ards. 


8. 


Etruscan " 




35, 36. Roman Lances. 


9- 


Roman Helmet. 




37, 3 8 > 39- Roman Field Stand 


IO. 


Breast Shield. 




ards. 


i 1, 


12, 13, 14. Greek Lances. 


40. Roman Shield. 


'5- 


Roman Helmet. 




41. " Armor. 


1 6. 


Greek Sword. 




42. " Shield. 


17- 


" Dagger. 




43. " Armor. 


18. 


" Double-edged Sword. 


44. " Scutum. 


19. 


Persian Scabbard. 




45,46. " Falchions. 


20. 


Etruscan Shield. 




47. Battering Ram and Tower 


21. 


Roman Helmet. 




48. Roman Falchion. 


22, 


23. Persian Helmets. 




49. Ballista. 


24. 


Roman Armor. 







MEMORABLE FEATS IN ENGINEERING. 39 

man of his day, but mentally he lacked the energy and purpose 
of his father and was faint-hearted, vain, and conceited. Not 
until he had been delayed two years was the revolt in Egypt 
crushed ; then Mardonius became one of his chief counsellors 
and urged him to set forth on the march to Greece. Four years 
more were spent in mighty preparation, and then the expedition 
fairly started. 

Twelve hundred ships of war formed his fleet and over a mil- 
lion men his army. In some parts of his empire only women 
were left to till the soil. Never before had Persia mustered such 
a force, never again was she able to do so ; and the campaign, 
thus begun, was made further memorable by two great feats in 
engineering — the bridging of the Hellespont by means of boats, 
and the digging of a ship canal through the isthmus back of 
Mount Athos. 

The straits which connect the Euxine with the y£gean are 
about a mile in width at the point selected by the Phoenician en- 
gineers for the crossing, which was about opposite where Abydos 
now stands. Two bridges, in fact, were decided upon, and they 
were thrown across the Hellespont from the eastern shore to the 
Thracian Chersonese, parallel and only a short distance apart. 
The largest, stoutest ships were employed, securely anchored 
with their prows down stream, and only four or five yards apart. 
Huge cables of flax and fibre of papyrus were stretched by 
capstans from shore to shore, resting on the ships, and on these 
cables the beams and flooring were laid ; an earthen road was 
levelled along the planking and a stout fence was built, both 
to prevent the cattle from crowding one another off into the 
water and even their seeing it. Three hundred and sixty triremes 
and penteconters were needed for the upper bridge, three hun- 
dred and fourteen for the lower ; but when all was ready a violent 
storm burst upon the straits and destroyed the bridges. Xerxes 
in a rage caused the engineers of the work to be put to death 
and ordered new bridges built at once. 

Meantime a great force of men was at work digging the ship 
canal behind Mount Athos. The promontory juts far out into 
the ./Egean, forming a bold and precipitous headland, and for 



40 THERMOPYLAE. 

centuries this had been the storm centre of those seas. It was 
here the great flotilla of Mardonius was wrecked. It is here that 
to this day mariners cannot be induced at certain seasons to at- 
tempt to sail from the eastern around to the western side of the 
peninsula. Xerxes determined to lose no more ships in that 
undertaking, and a broad ship-canal, wide enough to pass two 
triremes sailing abreast, was dug across the isthmus. Despite 
the immense force at his disposal, it took three years to complete 
the work, only a mile and a half in length. 

Just at sunrise one balmy spring morning in the year 480 
B. C, the great army of Xerxes began the crossing, the fighting 
force taking the upper bridge, the trains, cattle, and camp-fol- 
lowers the lower ; and for seven days and nights, lashed actually 
into the utmost rapidity of march, the soldiery poured over in 
ceaseless stream. 

First of all were the " Immortals," so called because their 
number was never allowed to fall below ten thousand or to ex- 
ceed it — a division of infantry that was the honored and envied 
of all Asia, superb in dress and appointments and bearing pome- 
granates of solid silver on the butts of their spears. One thou- 
sand of their number marching at stated intervals on front, flank, 
and rear — non-commissioned officers probably — were further dis- 
tinguished by gold instead of silver pomegranates. After the 
Immortals rode the picked horse-guard of Xerxes himself, one 
thousand tried and trusted knights and soldiers, their spears 
decorated with apples of gold. With them rode Xerxes and his 
glittering court. Behind them came the great division of cavalry, 
ten thousand strong, all native Persians and devoted to their 
king. Then came the vast array of legionaries, allies, slaves, 
and conscripts, forty-six nationalities in all being represented, 
each bearing the arms and wearing the dress peculiar to its ov/n 
land and clime. From the east as far as the Indus and Oxus, 
from the south as far almost as the head waters of the Nile, from 
every land of western Asia and northern Africa they poured for 
one living week across the trembling bridge, the most motley 
array in the annals of warfare. It would be impossible to de- 
scribe all the varieties of arms and equipments. One point, 



AN OVERWHELMING PERSIAN FORCE. 41 

however, ought to be noted. Even as at Marathon ten years 
before, hardly one command was provided with defensive armor. 
Turbans instead of helmets, loose robes and trousers instead of 
breastplates and greaves, wicker-work instead of shield of metal 
or hides, and light javelins, arrows, and cimeters instead of the 
heavy spear and deadly short sword of the men of Athens and 
Sparta. • 

Up along the Chersonese, westward along the Gulf of Melos, 
across the great plain of Doriscus, where he mustered and re- 
viewed his forces and found himself at the head of one million 
seven hundred thousand soldiers, Xerxes pressed forward. Down 
he came through Thrace, Macedon and Thessaly, subjugating 
everywhere. An attempt was made to check him in the narrow 
pass of the Vale of Tempe, but the army sent thither under 
Themistocles speedily found that the position would be unten- 
able because of the open sea to the right. With his matchless 
fleet Xerxes could land thousands in their rear, and Themistocles 
fell back. Only one point was known to exist where a stand 
might successfully be made — Thermopylae. 

Thermopylae — " The Warm Gates" — was a noted pass. The 
road from Thessaly and the entire north of Greece, the one high- 
way leading from Macedon, Thrace, Thessaly, and Dolopia down 
to Bceotia, Athens, and the Peloponnesus was here confined to a 
narrow causeway. To the south lay the jagged precipices of 
Mount (Eta, to the north the lashing waves of the Maliac Gulf. 
The road enters this strange defile from the west, and at the 
western entrance the cliffs of Mount GEta almost overhang the 
sea. There was barely room between them and the deep waters 
for the causeway. A little further on the mountain seemed to 
open out. There was a mile or two of open, gently sloping foot- 
hills, a space large and level enough to utilize as the camping- 
ground of a few thousand men ; then, at the eastern end of the 
defile, the mountain again closed in and shouldered the roadway 
out against the sea. Everywhere throughout its length, where 
the waves themselves did not break upon the embankment, there 
lay to the north of the road a deep, treacherous morass, utterly 
impassable. Near the middle of the pass were some warm 



42 THERMOPYLAE. 

springs out in the open ground, and from these it took its 
name. 

With the gulf on the north and the jagged heights of Mount 
CEta on the south, it is easy to see that flank attack was here 
impossible. A small army could confront a vast one, and here 
it was that Greece determined to make her stand. But what 
was to prevent the position* being taken in reverse, as was or 
would have been the case with Tempe farther north ? There 
was the arm of the sea. Where were the ships of Xerxes ? 
Off Tempe lay the broad Thermaic Gulf, opening out into the sea 
itself. Off Thermopylae lay a narrow arm approachable through 
a still narrower channel — the Straits of Eubcea, A small and 
determined fleet could hold those straits against the 1,200 ships 
of Asia, and, thanks to the wisdom of Themistocles and his 
vehement exertions after Marathon, Athens at last had a navy 
that was a credit to Greece. Off Artemesium in Eubcea, far to 
le east of Thermopylae, the fleet of Greece was now in readiness 
3 hold that of Persia; and at Thermopylae itself King Leonidas 
of Sparta, with 300 picked men from his own city and a force 
of about 4,000 troops from other Grecian states (none, however, 
from Athens), sprang forward and seized the pass. It was just 
about the end of June. 

We are told by some historians that when Xerxes halted be- 
fore Thermopylae he had under his banners nearly 2,000,000 
men. This vast army was confronted by less than 5,000. The 
national games were then being carried on throughout Greece, 
and nothing would induce the Peloponnesians especially to drop 
them and go to the aid of this little advanced post. At first it 
was unmolested. Xerxes saw that front attack in that narrow 
defile would not be apt to have effect — thousands would have to 
stand and look on where one could fight. He hurried forward 
his fleet, hoping to " turn " the position, but a terrible storm 
wrecked 400 of his ships on the coast of Magnesia, and the fleet 
of Eurybiades confronted the remainder at the eastern entrance 
of the straits. He could not take Leonidas in rear by sea. 
Was there any chance by land? Apparently not. Mount OZta 
stretched like a huge barrier for miles across the southern sky, 



THE ATTACK. 43 

but, reliant on his overpowering force and the bravery of his 
chosen Persians, he determined to order the attack. The calm 
and indifference of the Spartans, whom his scouts reported quietly 
sitting outside the stone wall that then stood at the western gate, 
was exasperating. As a preliminary, he ordered a tower to be 
erected, from the top of which he proposed to watch the demoli- 
tion of the defenders. Then one bright morning about the 1st 
of July the assault began. 

Two fine divisions, the Medes and Kissians, sprang forward, 
the former in the lead, and advanced along the causeway. 
There is solemn stillness and expectation a while as these, the 
bravest and best troops (if we except the Guards and " Immor- 
tals "), the flower of Persia's army, sweep forward to the attack. 

Little by little the precipices to the right crowd and contract 
the front ; the left flank is being forced out into the morass and 
is "shaving off" as the lines advance. Narrower grows the 
defile, and now, as nothing but a mere carriage way, perhaps 
thirty feet in width, is left for their front, they come upon an 
impenetrable wall of stone, against which javelin and spear are 
alike impotent — against a living wall of iron, from which their 
puny missiles glance with harmless ring ; but this wall bristles 
with a deadly thicket of spears, and on these spears the foremost 
ranks, half in eager valor, half in helpless surrender to the throng- 
ing impetus from the rear, are rushed to bloody death. Sparta and 
Persia are locked in conflict, and for hours, with apparent gain 
on neither side, the struggle goes on. It is not long before a 
third barricade is heaped across the road — the mangled dead of 
Persia, for they go down in swarms before the mail-clad lines of 
Greece. Xerxes gazes in amaze and fury ; leaps from his seat 
and orders in fresh battalions. The attempt is simply madness. 
Fresh and vigorous comrades fill the places of the wearied men 
in the foremost ranks of Sparta, and the sun goes down upon a 
scene of carnage for which Xerxes can find no excuse whatever. 
Yet he orders the attack to be resumed on the morrow, and the 
morrow is but a repetition of the first day. Approached from 
the front, Leonidas was invincible. Was there no other way ? 

Winding over the mountains to the west and south, almost 



44 



THERMOPYLAE. 



forgotten, practically unused for years, was a pitiful foot-path, a 
mere goat-track. Of its existence even Leonidas had known 
nothing until his arrival at the pass, and, trusting to a similar 
ignorance on the part of Xerxes, he had done no more toward 
its defence than to place a guard of a thousand Phocians at the 
point where it reached the summit, intending if attacked that 
way to reinforce the detachment and defend it to the utmost. 

But treachery had been at work. Ephialtes, a Malian, had 
betrayed to Xerxes the secret of the footpath ; a strong detach- 
ment of Persians, under Hydarnes, stole from camp after dark-! 
ness on the second day had set in, and in the stillness of the 
following dawn fell upon the Phocian outpost and carried all be- 
fore them. Long before noon on the third day the bitter tidings 
reached Leonidas that his heroic defence had been in vain. 
Treachery had turned the pass. The Persians were in his rear. 

There was yet time to escape. To Leonidas and his Spartans 
desertion of the position they had been detailed to defend meant 
dishonor. The others might go. Their services would else- 
where be available, but the Spartan king with his brave 300, 
with some 700 Thespians and a handful of Thebans, stood to their 
ground. 

Xerxes had decided to postpone until noon the third attempt, 
judging that by that time the command of Hydarnes would have 
struck the Spartan rear. What was his amaze when those heavy 
armed hoplites suddenly issued from the defile in front of him — 
the pass they had been defending; and now, deploying their 
lines and straightening their ranks, their mail-clad athletes, in 
close, compact, invulnerable order, came charging down the 
causeway full upon his unprepared centre. For a time it seems 
as though nothing can stand before them. Only a thousand, 
yet that thousand is charging home to the heart of a thousand 
times their number. They are dashing in upon his very look- 
out tower ; piercing their way through the swarming hordes of 
Asia like an iron wedge; they are coming straight at him, and 
a little more and he must fly or fall. Noble after noble, general 
and chief and knight go down before those thousand spears in 
vain effort to check their onset. Two royal princes, brothers 



THE SPARTANS ANNIHILATED. 45 

of Xerxes, are slain in defence of their royal brother, and then 
the monarch is seized by terrified friends and borne in panic far 
to the rear. 

But the wild dash could not last. One by one the terrible 
spears are broken, bent or wrenched away. Little by little the 
exhaustion of hours of conflict is telling upon the devoted band. 
Leonidas himself goes down, mortally wounded, fighting like 
a lion to the last, scorning to abandon his post. Knowing that 
there he and his men must be slowly butchered, he determined 
on the brilliant and daring sortie that struck home to the very 
core of Asia's army, and ended in his own glorious death. 
And now at last, battered, breathless, but sword in hand, face to 
the foe, bearing the body of their gallant leader in their midst, 
they bend to the weight of hundreds of fresh and exultant ene- 
mies, who would not dare meet them hand-to-hand when morn- 
ing dawned. But the sun is setting now, and in the dust and 
grime of battle one after another the heroes of the little band 
are falling, ever with faces to the foe. At last the remnant is 
borne backward on the mighty rush and torrent and carried 
within the pass ; and there, hemmed in on every side, even the 
swords broken and dinted now, they gather grimly, undauntedly, 
on a little hillock, too weak to stand or longer struggle ; too 
superb to surrender, but daring and defiant to the last, they 
sell their storied lives, and only when the life-blood of the last 
is drained is Thermopylae won. 

There was now nothing left to check the onward march of 
the Asiatic conqueror towards Athens. In six days more his 
chariot was thundering through the deserted streets, and the 
inhabitants had scattered across the Saronic Gulf or huddled 
upon their ships at Salamis. One-third of Greece was in his 
power, and Sardis was avenged. 



PLATiEA. 



479 B. C 




^v, HE great naval battle of Salamis, which resulted 
in the disastrous defeat of the Persian fleet 
soon after the occupation of Athens, com- 
pletely cured Xerxes of any desire to see 
further fighting. Leaving three hundred thou- 
sand men as an army of occupation under 
Mardonius, he himself with the bulk of his 
army marched back the way he came, suf- 
fered severely during the six weeks of re- 
treat to the Hellespont, found his bridges 
again destroyed, but crossed his land force on the vessels 
that remained to him, and made the best of his way back to his 
capital. 

Great hopes, however, were entertained of Mardonius and his 
army. The nobles of Persia could not and would not believe 
that, properly handled, their forces either on land or sea were 
not able to conquer the Greeks. The orders left Mardonius were 
to hold the conquered territory north of the Isthmus of Corinth 
until spring and then be prepared to resume the offensive. At 
the same time a strong corps of sixty thousand men under Ar- 
tabazus, who had escorted Xerxes to the confines of Thrace, 
was ordered to winter there and join Mardonius early in the 
spring. The latter, with his command, had retired to the plains 
of Thessaly, and the Athenians, after their great victory at Sal- 
amis, had returned and reoccupied their capital. 

The first move of Mardonius in the early spring was to make 
one effort at the honor of Attica. There is something pathetic 
in the situation of this gallant little state at the time, and 
(46) 




Thermopylae 




70 K StuXaf 



AN INSIDIOUS OFFER. 47 

a glance at the map of Greece will make it clear. There, down 
in the southeast corner, jutting out between the vEgean and the 
Mediterranean, is a little rocky peninsula, Greece. From the 
west an arm of the sea is thrust in five-sixths of the way across 
and almost meets a shorter arm from the eastern sea. The 
narrow neck of land which separates these two watery arms 
is the Isthmus of Corinth ; all the mainland below it was then 
called the Peloponnesus, now the Morea. Therein lay Sparta, 
Argos, Messene, Elis, and Olympia, Sicyon and Corinth, the 
great cities of confederated Greece. But Athens ? Athens stood 
alone, northeast of the isthmus, the outpost of the confederacy. 
All north of her now had been overrun by the hordes of Asia ; 
and she, that had once before at Marathon so superbly defied 
and defeated them, that had already been sacked and burned 
in their second resistless advance, stood now a third time be- 
tween them and her sister states beyond the isthmus. Twice 
has she borne the brunt and saved them from invasion. Now, 
as a third time the foe advances, she is foremost in the path, 
calling upon the sister states she has twice defended, to come, 
not for her sake, but the sake of all, to help her meet this new 
invasion. And they were walling her out, barricading the isth- 
mus behind her. 

Then it was Mardonius attempted his insidious offer. King 
Alexander of Macedon (who must not be confounded with Alex- 
ander the Great, who came to the fore in the following century) 
was sent as envoy. He pointed out that, exposed and unsup- 
ported as she was, she could not hope to withstand the Persian 
advance. "Join us, help us to conquer Sparta and the Pelopon- 
nesus, who have deserted you who never deserted them, and we 
pledge you the friendship of the Great King. We will rebuild 
your city, we will enrich you in every way, and you shall be in- 
dependent." It was a desperate temptation, for the facts were 
not inaccurately stated. The Peloponnesus was ready to abandon 
Attica to her fate ; but at thought of her becoming the ally of 
Persia, terrible alarm was felt south of the isthmus. " Stand 
firm," said Sparta ; " be true to Greece ; we hasten to your aid." 
And the offer of Mardonius was rejected. Athens sent a lofty 



48 PLAT^A. 

and patriotic reply, penned, some say, by Aristides, who had 
returned from banishment just before Salamis, recalled by his 
great rival, Themistocles, who had secured his expulsion five 
/ears after Marathon ; for now Athens needed every man she 
had, and Themistocles well knew the power and force of the 
patriot whom he had ostracised solely because of his opposition 
to his own ambitious schemes. Athens would and did stand 
firm, and Mardonius at once advanced. 

Now that Athens had committed herself to the common cause 
and could not again expect a renewal of the offer of alliance,^ 
Sparta and her coadjutors failed her. The expected aid did not 
come, was not sent. Sparta was the military head of Greece, 
and Sparta withheld all assistance. Betrayed and deserted, the 
Athenians once more were forced to abandon their city and take 
refuge on their ships. And now, once more, Mardonius tempted 
them, promising to spare their city, pointing out that he had pro- 
hibited all pillage, inviting them to return, pledging them honors, 
protection, prosperity, if they would only join him against the 
states which had so basely abandoned and deceived her. Then 
Sparta heard that Athens was about to yield and realized her 
own peril. That very night Pausanias of Sparta, with five thou- 
sand hoplites, pushed forward for the isthmus, and at last rein- 
forcements were on the way. 

The Peloponnesus now woke up in earnest. By July I an 
admirable and disciplined army was concentrated in Corinthia, 
north of the isthmus, threatening the position of Mardonius in 
Athens. Numerically the Persians were far stronger but still 
no match for the trained and disciplined Greeks. Mardonius 
promptly abandoned Athens and fell back by a circuitous route 
into Bceotia, placing the river Asopus between himself and the 
foe. 

Here, reinforced by Artabazus, with the fortified city of Thebes 
at his back, with a broad plain suitable for his cavalry on which 
to manoeuvre, he awaited with confidence the expected onward 
move of the Greeks ; and to strengthen himself in this position 
he caused to be built a great fortified enclosure or stockade, a 
mile and a quarter square, and this he designed to be the rally- 



THE FORCES ENGAGED. 49 

ing point of his army in the event of disaster. He was not all 
confidence, it seems. His Persian officers were disheartened at 
the withdrawal of Xerxes. The Thebans and Boeotians were 
alarmed at the rally of the Peloponnesus, and Artabazus, second 
in command, was suspiciously disloyal. 

And now the Grecian army, under command of Pausanias, one 
hundred and ten thousand strong, but all footmen, marched 
northward through Megara, climbed the slopes of Cithaeron, and 
from thence gazed down upon the plain and valley of the Asopus. 
Forty thousand of these troops were hoplites, soldiers and citi- 
zens of the first rank, and thoroughly skilled in the use of their 
arms. The rest were light troops, irregulars, helots, but quite as 
effective as the generality of the Asiatic force. All the Pelo- 
ponnesian cities seem to have contributed their quota, but the 
finest troops were undoubtedly the five thousand Spartans and 
the battle-tried heroes of Athens, eight thousand hoplites, and 
six hundred from faithful little Plataea, who, as veterans of Mar-. 
athon, were organized in one division under one of their old 
leaders, Aristides. 

Along the mountain range Pausanias waited. Knowing the 
great superiority of the Persians in point of numbers, and real-, 
izing that down on the plain their cavalry would have immense 
advantage, he clung to the heights. But Mardonius took the 
initiative. He had an admirable force of horsemen ; they were 
armed with bows of great strength, were expert archers, and his 
theory was that they could ride around the massive infantry of 
Greece, shooting arrows into their very faces, and there could be no 
defence so long as the horsemen kept out of spears' length. Greece 
had few missile weapons : spear and sword were her reliance. 

The armies faced each other, the Persians north of the Asopus, 
the Greeks along the range of hills. Mardonius impatiently 
ordered his cavalry to attack, and the squadrons of Asia swept 
up the slopes and fell upon the footmen of Megara, who hap- 
pened to be most exposed, and dire was the slaughter until the 
phalanx of Athens came charging to the rescue, and with the 
loss of their leader, the greatest cavalry soldier of his day, Ma- 
sistius, the Persians were driven in disorder from the field. 



, 50 PLAT/EA. 

Having killed him and defeated his troopers, Pausanias feared 
no longer to try issue on the open field below. He marched 
rapidly down into the valley, out past the devoted little city of 
Plataea, and formed line facing north along the Asopus. Here, 
in accordance with time-honored custom, they were drawn up 
according to tribe or nation — the Spartans in the post of honor 
on the extreme right, covering a famous spring, the fountain of 
Gargaphia. The Athenians were posted upon the opposite 
flank, that of second honor. 

Plataea lies just north of the mountain range of Cithaeron and 
west of south from Thebes. To meet this move Mardonius had 
to face his army to the west, march a short distance up the 
Asopus, and then, directly in front of the Grecian force, he again 
deployed ; he, with the Persians and Medes, taking post on the 
left of his line so as to face the Spartans, the most renowned sol- 
diers of Greece. The Sacae, full as brave and reliable as the 
Persians, held the centre, while over against the Athenians on 
the extreme (Persian) right were posted the Macedonians and 
conquered conscripts from northern Greece. 

Nothing warlike was done in those days without consulting 
the oracles, and the answer now given was for both sides the 
same — "Await attack and yours is the victory." Consequently, 
neither side desired to open the ball. 

For nearly a fortnight the armies confronted each other, the 
cavalry of Persia constantly harassing the flanks and rear of the 
Greeks and cutting off or driving back their supplies. At last, 
one night, the sentries in front of the left of the line sent in and 
reported that a single horseman halted at the outposts announced 
himself as Alexander of Macedon and desired to speak with 
their chiefs. In the conference that followed it was revealed that 
at dawn Mardonius proposed to attack in force along the whole 
line. Greece was warned to be on her guard. 

Then, to the surprise of all, Sparta's king suggested that they 
and the men of Athens should exchange places, " because," he 
said, " the Athenians have fought the Persians before and under- 
stand them. We can be sure of overthrowing the Macedonians." 
The change was made and, at dawn, instantly detected by Mardo- 



THE SPARTANS SURPRISED. 51 

nius, who made a corresponding transfer of his flanks. Then 
once more Pausanias ordered his Lacedaemonians to the right ; 
the Persians followed, and the day was spent in senseless and 
fatiguing countermarching. The Spartans were barely back in 
their proper position on the right when the battle of Plataea 
began in good earnest. A daring and desperate charge of 
Oriental cavalry overthrew and hurled them back upon their 
supports. 

Taken unawares, before they had time to form their ranks, the 
Spartans were for a few moments at great disadvantage, and 
those few moments were precious ; for the Persians seized their 
opportunity and choked up the fountain which had rendered the 
best supply of water, that from the river being almost unobtain- 
able owing to the vigilance of the Asiatic archers. The loss 
was most serious, and Pausanias instantly decided upon another 
move. 

Two miles and a half away behind their left lay Plataea. In 
front of Plataea, on the broad plain, the river CEroe came down 
in two branches from Cithaeron, united and flowed off westward 
to the Gulf of Corinth. The Asopus, rising near it, ran directly 
eastward. Pausanias determined to move over to the ground 
between the two branches of the CEroe, "The Island," as it was 
called. There he would have ample supply of water, which could 
not be intercepted by the enemy. 

At midnight the Corinthians and Megarians in the centre were 
silently withdrawn and ordered to move a mile or so to the west, 
cross the eastern branch of the CEroe, and take up a neV posi- 
tion facing north still, but unquestionably somewhat more ietired 
than the one they had occupied during the day. The Athenians 
on the extreme left were to hold their ground to cover the move 
until assured that the centre was beyond reach of attack, and 
then in silence to move off to their left and rear, passing around 
west of the low hills which separated the CEroe from the Asopus. 
Last of all, the Lacedaemonians and Tegeans were to withdraw 
and take post on the right of the new line. 

The Corinthians started at the appointed time, but they had 
been savagely handled by the Persian cavalry during the day, 



52 PLAT^EA. 

were anxious to avoid such conflict on the morrow, and went too 
far. They passed the designated point, and, with the Megarians, 
kept on until they got under the walls of Plataea, where the steep 
hillside would protect them from charge of cavalry. 

Having sent off the troops in the centre, Pausanias now re- 
paired to the extreme right and ordered the withdrawal of the 
Spartans ; but here trouble arose. Amompharetus, a stout old 
soldier, refused to budge. He would not fall back himself, and 
his men would not fall back without him. In vain Pausanias 
and his generals strove to point out that the move was only one 
for water and to draw the Persians after them. Amompharetus 
swore he would not fall back an inch. It was a violation of 
Spartan honor. Pausanias had no alternative but to leave him 
and his handful of troops to come to their senses. Pie hastened 
back after his main line. Most of the Lacedaemonians had gone 
already, and the Athenians from the extreme left were sending 
anxious inquiries as to what was going on. Dawn was breaking 
and there was no time to be lost. 

Fortunately Amompharetus soon thought better of the matter, 
and just as it became light enough to see, his command moved 
off, following in the track of their comrades towards Plataea. At 
the same hour, far to the west, the Athenians silently stole away, 
and as the sun rose over the rocky heights of Eubcea, dimly 
visible through the morning mists of the valley, and the Persian 
cavalry pushed out to the front to renew the manoeuvres of the 
previous day, they discovered that the south bank was aban- 
doned. The Greeks had gone. All that was left to view was 
the slender column of Amompharetus slowly toiling up the low 
" divide " over towards Plataea. 

Then all was excitement and disorder in the Persian ranks. 
Hardly waiting to don his armor, Mardonius called his guard to 
follow him and rushed out to join the disorganized, mob-like pur- 
suit already begun. Persian, Mede, and Sacae sprang forward to 
the chase; no ranks, no discipline, no recognized leader; every 
man for himself, apparently, those who felt so disposed chased off 
across the Asopus ; those who did not, stood still and looked on. 

Among the latter, with a disciplined and valiant corps of 




ASSYRIAN WABBJQBS AND ABCHEB. EGYPTIAN KING IN WAB CHABIOT, AND WABBIOBS. 





HISTORIC WAR DRESS. 



PAUSANIAS IMPATIENT. 53 

nearly forty thousand men, was Artabazus. He formed his 
ranks, moved forward a short distance, then halted and simply 
stood still watching the rush of Mardonius towards Plataea. He 
had predicted disaster if attack were attempted, and he did not 
mean to lend aid to stultify his prophecy. Artabazus stopped 
short and awaited the result. 

Meantime Pausanias had overtaken his right wing, the Lace- 
daemonians, just as they had crossed the low ridge southwest of 
the Asopus. He halted them and looked back. The wild rush 
of Persia had begun. The hordes of Asia were crowding upon 
the little band of Amompharetus. Coolly the latter marched to 
the crest, then faced about. Quickly their comrades csf Lace 
daemon ranged themselves on their right and left, and with low- 
ered shield the threatening hedge of spears crashes down to the 
charge. It is a trying moment, for Pausanias, compelled by 
religious duty to offer up battle sacrifices and consult the wishes 
of the gods before deciding what to do, is eagerly waiting for 
the report of his priests while the Persian arrows are dealing 
death in his patient ranks. 

Invincible in the charge and in open ground when aided by 
the impetus of assault, the solid phalanx is like a goaded bull 
when compelled passively to face the foe. All around, at short 
range, the Orientals have planted a bulwark of their light archer 
shields and are pouring in a ceaseless flight of arrows, while the 
cavalry swarming about the flanks are making ugly gaps in the 
mail-clad ranks. Pausanias can stand it no longer. Raising his 
eyes through the dust and din of battle, he catches sight of the 
distant pinnacle of the temple of Juno, shining above the walls 
of Plataea, and to her, imploringly, he stretches forth his hands. 
Under those walls, a mile or more away, most of his troops are 
huddled. He is alone out here in the open hillside with his 
Spartans and Tegeans. Instantly the priests, who have been 
ominously silent before, declare the auspices favorable. Instantly 
he gives the longed-for order. " Now, Sparta, advance ! " And 
with the pent-up rage of battle, with the vehement longing for 
action that has been burning in their breasts all these wasted 
moments, the serried, solid ranks of Lacedaemon dash upon the 



54 



PLATAEA. 



over-confident foe. Down go the fragile breastworks, down go 

the defenders. Mede and Persian reel before this machine-like 

onslaught. In vain the struggle with javelin and poinard, in vain 

Mardonius at the head of his gallant horse-guard charges upon 

the spears. Down he goes, felled by the hand of ^Eimnestus, 

and the phalanx tramples over his prostrate body. Gaining in 

force and impetus with every stride, the heavy infantry of Sparta 

literally tears its way through the heart of Persia's army, and in 

a few moments more, leaving their leader and hundreds of their 

comrades dead upon the field, the host of Mardonius, nothing 

but a mob now, is fleeing for life back to and across the Asopus. 

And, seeing them come, what dispositions are made upon the 

north bank, where at least a hundred thousand of their comrades 

are looking on ? Artabazus waits just long enough to see the 

beginning of the route, then marches his corps from the field of 

battle, passes by Thebes, and abandons his comrades to their 

fate. With him went the last chance of a successful stand. 

Had he remained, with his fresh and vigorous troops he could 

have pounced upon the Spartans, already exhausted after their 

long conflict and headlong pursuit. He could have caught them 

utterly isolated from their comrades, for in their ardor they had 

taken no thought of support, and the Grecian centre was still 

way back at Plataea, and the left wing heavily engaged with the 

Thebans across the CEroe. He could have crushed the Spartans 

by weight of numbers as they had been crushed at Thermopylse, 

and he, Artabazus, would have been the hero and victor of 

Plataea. As it was he was simply the traitor. 

But far on the left the battle is still raging, for there Greek 
meets Greek : Athens is pitted against Thebes. For a time the 
issue is doubtful, but at last the practised valor of the veterans 
of Marathon proves too much for the men of Boeotia. Slowly 
but surely they are borne back. Furious charges of the Theban 
cavalry help them somewhat and relieve them of immediate 
pressure ; but learning that utter rout has overwhelmed the Per- 
sian left, they fall back in comparative order to the walled city 
of Thebes. There at least they are safe from further assault. 

Meantime, the battle being virtually won, the centre seems to 
have awakened and with much clamor and spirit to have has- 



MASSACRE OF THE PERSIANS. 55 

tened forward from the walls of Plataea. The Megarians came 
eagerly down to where the Athenians were resting after their 
severe and exhausting conflict with the Thebans, and, supposing 
that the latter were in full retreat, they streamed out over the 
open plain in wild pursuit, and while thus scattered were sud- 
denly and viciously charged by the Theban horse and driven in 
consternation back to the shelter of the Athenians, leaving six 
hundred of their number overtaken and slaughtered upon the 
plain. 

And now the Persian army made for the fortified enclosure 
already described. There was no order, no leader, no discipline. 
They huddled in like sheep, and thither presently they were 
followed by the panting Spartans, now strongly reinforced by the 
Corinthians and others from the centre, and in all the fury of 
hate the assault began. 

Brave and impetuous as they were, however, they had no skill 
in the assault of fortified places, and for hours they were unable 
to effect an entrance. At last the Athenians arrived and then 
matters began to take definite shape. Here, as heretofore, the 
men of Attica gave proof of their superiority, and under their 
leadership the great enclosure was stormed and carried, and now 
nothing remained but the work of slaughter and pillage. : 

Over this part of the story one can scarce repress a shudder. 
No mercy was shown, no quarter given. Greece revenged her 
wrongs in one terrible and unparalleled massacre. 

Of the exact losses of Plataea we have no accurate account. 
The best authorities place those of the Greeks at about thirteen 
hundred, all told— mainly Spartans, Tegeans, Athenians, and 
Plataeans ; though the six hundred lost by the Megarians as 
their share, the result of their bombastic effort to reap some of 
the fruits of the victory, are of course included. The Asiatic 
loss is simply incalculable. Herodotus states that only three 
thousand survived of those who did not march away with 
Artabazus. This would bring the total of their killed or mas- 
sacred to over one hundred thousand. 

Plataea ended once and for all the attempted march of con- 
quest of Persia. From this time fort u there was 3-n e*id to 
eastern invasion. 



LEUCTRA. 




371 B. C. 

,0R a century after Plataea there was almost 
incessant warring in Greece. Jealousies of 
all kinds had risen in the sisterhood of 
states. By dint of her rigorous military 
system Sparta had managed to keep at the 
head of affairs until the close of what was 
termed the Peloponnesian war, although 
Athens had pushed her hard for leadership 
before that struggle. But sieges and pesti- 
lence at home reduced the power and num- 
bers of the Athenians, and the great expedition sent to conquer 
Sicily in 415 B. C. met with woful disaster at Syracuse. Then 
the last fleet of Athens was destroyed at ^Egospotami by Lysan- 
der, and in 404 B. C. Athens surrendered and Sparta stood 
supreme throughout Greece. 

But Sparta proved revengeful and despotic. She humbled her 
neighbors in many inexcusable ways. Her former allies turned 
against her. Fresh wars broke out. In the movements that 
followed the Spartans succeeded in seizing and holding the cit- 
adel of Thebes — the Cadmeia, as it was called. It was retaken 
by a band of conspirators, who entrapped the Spartan leaders at 
a banquet and put them to instant death. 

Then Sparta sent an army in the dead of winter to avenge the 
treachery (so she termed it) of the Thebans. It certainly was a 
piece of treachery, but no more of a crime than that by which 
Sparta had seized the Cadmeia ; and as a similar attempt had 
just been made to seize the Piraeus, the seaport of Athens, the 
Athenians joined forces with Thebes against the Spartans. Two 
(56) 



EPAM1NONDAS APPEARS. 57 

sharp actions were fought at Tanagra and Tegyra, and for the 
first time in their history the Spartans were compelled to retreat 
before an inferior force. The supremacy of Sparta was de- 
stroyed. 

Then a great convention of the states was called at Sparta. 
Persia wished aid from them in quelling a revolt in Egypt, and 
here the trouble broke out afresh. It seems that after the affair 
at Tegyra, Thebes had assumed the same domineering attitude 
towards the other cities of Bceotia that Sparta had to those of 
the Peloponnesus. The Athenians, in some jealousy of the 
growing powers of Thebes, had well-nigh decided to withdraw 
from their alliance. Speeches were made by eminent Athenians, 
proposing peace on terms satisfactory to all but Thebes. Athens 
and Sparta would have deprived Thebes of all control over her 
neighbors in Bceotia, yet retained certain powers of their own. 

This brought to his feet the sole envoy of Thebes, Epaminon- 
das, a man who already had become the object of much atten- 
tion throughout the entire confederacy. From the day of its 
congress at Sparta he became the most prominent. In plain, 
emphatic language he dared what none but he had dared before. 
Sparta was vehemently assailed for her conduct towards the 
cities of Laconia, which, said he, was infinitely more arrogant 
than that of Thebes toward her neighbors of Bceotia. In ex- 
asperation Agesilaus, King of Sparta, sprang from his seat. 
" Speak plainly," said he to Epaminondas ; " will you or will you 
not leave the cities of Bceotia free from all interference on your 
part ? " 

" Will you promise freedom to your neighbors of Laconia ? " 
was the answer. 

And Thebes was stricken from the rolls as exempted from the 
terms of the treaty. This was in June, 371 B. C. Epaminondas 
returned in haste to Bceotia. Athens withdrew from her old 
alliance, and all Greece stood aside to see Thebes and Sparta 
meet in single combat. 

This time, even though Thebes stood alone, Sparta had reason 
to be cautious. 

To begin with, the finest soldier and tactician yet born to 



5£ LEUCTRA. 

Greece stood at the head of the Theban army, and as scholar and 
statesman he was as complete as soldier. 

Epaminondas was the son of Polymnis. His family was poor, 
had always been poor, but among the oldest of Thebes. They 
claimed their origin from the very dragon's teeth sown by Cad- 
mus. At the time of the democratic reorganization in Thebes 
— 378 B. C. — Epaminondas was in the prime of life. He had 
spent years in military and gymnastic training, was skilled in 
music, and learned in philosophy, history, and politics. It was 
said of him that no man of his day knew more and talked less. 
He was pure, true, valiant, and steadfast, and to him Thebes 
confided her fortunes when the Spartan army came swarming 
over the mountain boundary from Phocis on the west; for in 
Phocis it so happened the Spartans at that moment had some ten 
thousand well-trained soldiers under Cleombrotus. 

But, pre-eminent as the men of Laconia had been up to the 
day of Tegyra, they now had to encounter a foe skilled and dis- 
ciplined as themselves. For years past, under such soldiers as 
Pelopidas and Epaminondas, a regular camp of instruction had 
been maintained on the open plain near Thebes ; and, while all 
the soldiery had been put through a sharp course of training, 
one battalion in particular, an organization perfected in 378 B. C, 
was now renowned throughout Greece. It never had its superior, 
if indeed it ever found its equal. This was " The Sacred Band." 
It was composed of three hundred hoplites, heavy armed in- 
fantry, and consecrated to the defence of the Cadmeia or Acro- 
polis. It was under constant training, and consisted of young- 
men picked from the best families of Thebes, and so drawn up 
in ranks that each pair of neighboring soldiers were intimate 
friends. To join it required years of trial and exercise in the 
palaestra — the martial games and contests of the city. To be- 
long to it was the highest honor to which a young soldier could 
aspire. Destined at first to form a front rank for the Theban 
infantry, it was soon changed by Epaminondas into a regiment 
acting by itself, formed in deep charging column. And this was the 
compact little phalanx that had hewn its way through the hitherto 
indomitable Spartans at Tegyra. It had proved irresistible. 



THEBES AND SPARTA IN CONFLICT. 59 

With only six or seven thousand men, all told, Epaminondas 
set forth fr&m Thebes to contest the march of Cleombrotus with 
his ten thousand from Phocis into Boeotia. But the Spartan 
had met the " Sacred Band " before, and knew better than to 
assail it when between him and home. He did a thing Spartan 
generals hitherto scorned to do — manoeuvred. He moved rap- 
idly southward, seized the port of Creusis on the Crissaean Gulf, 
captured the twelve Theban triremes in the harbor, left a garrison 
there to hold the place, marched northward again over the low 
mountain range, and encamped on the high grounds of the eastern 
slopes of Mount Helicon, near a little town called Leuctra, west 
of Thebes, only a short march from it, and not far northwest of 
Plataea, with which we formed acquaintance in the previous 
chapter. 

Here the Thebans came down to meet them. They were dis- 
comfited and annoyed by the success of the Spartan move and 
the loss of their seaport. It took all the energy and vim of 
Epaminondas to keep them firm. Of the seven commanders — 
Bceotarchs, as they were called — three already showed great 
timidity and urged the policy of falling back on Thebes and 
standing a siege, but the vote of the seventh decided in favor of 
the plan of Epaminondas — to fight then and there on the open 
ground. There was no exultation, no lively hope ; the Thebans 
simply meant to do their duty and die there rather than submit 
to Sparta. Then superstition came to their aid. 

From the Theban temples came encouraging omens ; but, best 
of all, a Spartan exile, now serving in the Theban ranks, an- 
nounced his conviction that here was the very spot designated 
by the gods for the overthrow of Sparta. Here, he pointed out, 
stood the tomb of two maidens of Leuctra, whOj wandering 
together in the fields, had been seized and violated by some sol- 
diers of Lacedaemon a few years before. Dishonored and de- 
spairing, they slew themselves ; and their father, after vainly 
imploring redress from Sparta, invoked curses on the kinsmen 
of those who had wrought such foul wrong to him and to his, 
died by his own hand at their grave, and the three were now 
entombed together. 



60 T.EUCTRA. 

In a dream Pelopidas was visited by the spirit of the father, 
and assured that if the Thebans would but sacrifice " an auburn 
virgin " at the tomb victory would be theirs. The Theban gen- 
erals were sorely perplexed as to what was meant by an " auburn " 
virgin, but in the midst of their consultation a mare with a chest- 
nut filly galloped up. The prophet Theocritus sprang to his 
feet, exclaiming: " Here comes the very victim required, sent by 
the gods themselves." And with eager haste and infinite relief 
the soldiers captured the filly and offered her as sacrifice upon 
the tomb. 

Fanciful as this story may be, there is universal testimony to 
the effect that all the omens were in favor of attack. In the 
highest spirits the men of Thebes and Bceotia sprang to their 
places, and the memorable battle of Leuctra began. 

Epaminondas had neglected no human precaution. His 
enemy outnumbered him almost two to one. Hitherto armies 
met with a simultaneous clash along the whole line. The day 
of Leuctra marks the first change. 

The Spartans were drawn up as usual in heavy masses, with 
Cleombrotus and the principal chiefs on their right. Epaminon- 
das massed his best men opposite those on his extreme left. All 
through the Spartan lines was eager haste and zeal for battle. 
They were frantic to avenge the disgrace of Tegyra. Seeing the 
calm preparations of the Thebans, the army of Sparta had first 
finished a hearty morning meal and then pushed well out from 
camp, their cavalry dispersed along their entire front. But cav^ 
airy was something comparatively new in Sparta, while for years 
the men of Thebes had been accustomed to handling their arms 
while on horseback. Behind the cloud of horsemen to the south 
the army of Laconia advanced at slow and stately march toward 
the Theban camp, the Spartans on the right being drawn up 
twelve deep. Between the rapidly nearing lines of cavalry lay 
a shallow depression in the ground, running from northwest to 
southeast pretty nearly. Each army was marching down hill 
towards the other and would be apt to meet at the very bottom. 
But, before beginning his move to the front, Epaminondas had 
ordered back to Thebes all his baggage and camp-followers. 



LOCKED IN THE DEATH-STRUGGLE. Q\ 

Seeing some lack of confidence among his allies, he called out 
that those tribes who felt too weak or uncertain to contend 
against the Spartans might fall out at the same time and get out 
of the way. He wanted no faint hearts with him. And the 
Thespians went. No sooner had they started than a large force 
of Spartan allies gave chase, scouring over the rolling hills to the 
northeast to head them off. The Thespians scurried back be- 
hind their comrades once more, and the Spartan allies started 
back to their own lines. But in their zeal they had gone a long 
distance — were widely separated from the Spartan army, now 
sensibly weakened by their absence ; and now was the Theban 
opportunity. Epaminondas was the first to see it. He hurls his 
cavalry forward in headlong charge. They are hardly withstood 
at all. The Spartan cavalry, greatly inferior in skill and horse- 
manship, whatever it may be in numbers, is sent whirling back 
upon the infantry supports. They cannot get through ; the in- 
fantry cannot advance. So here for a few moments the Theban 
horse ride around and over them, unmercifully belaboring the 
southern cavalry and even storming in upon the Spartan flanks. 
And now Cleombrotus urges forward the superb Spartan phalanx 
on the right. Twelve deep, in orderly disciplined array, they 
forge ahead, brushing away the swarming horsemen, friend and 
foe, like billows from an iron prow. Soon their serried ranks 
sweep their way out to the front and are seen in all their solid 
strength. They head squarely down the slope towards the 
Theban left. Presently they are practically alone, out in the air, 
for the centre and left of the Lacedaemonian line, composed of 
allies or inferior troops, have failed to hew their way through the 
crowding, contending horsemen in front. Indeed, they can see 
nothing ahead of them but this mass of plunging steeds and 
battling riders. And now, once more, Epaminondas gazes with 
eager satisfaction. On the northern slope his left is massed in 
charging column four times the depth of that of Sparta. There 
stand the Sacred Band, and behind them in solid phalanx — the 
whole nearly fifty deep — the other hoplites of Thebes. Off to 
their right, but " refused," as the military term is — thrown back 
considerably behind the line of the left wing — stood the batfal- 



62 LEUCTRA. 

ions of the centre, and to their right and still further "refused" 
the other troops of Bceotia there enlisted. Epaminondas was 
the first general to attack in echelon, as though his battalions 
formed a succession of steps from right to left. \ 

Now, as the Spartan band reaches the foot of the slope and 
begins the ascent, he gives the word to advance ; and his 
left wing, with levelled spears, with great shields close locked, 
for all the world like one bristling battering-ram, with all the 
impetus of down-hill charge in column of fifty deep is hurled 
upon the up-hill-struggling square of Sparta. 

Desperately, heroically, inflexibly as the latter fights, what 
possible chance has it ? On purely mechanical principles the 
Thebans are sure of success. The phalanx of Lacedaemon is 
hewn to pieces. Cleombrotus himself receives his death-wound; 
Deinon, the polemarch, is slain ; all the most eminent officers of 
the Spartan army fall there with him. Despite obstinate resist- 
ance and fearful slaughter, the strength of Sparta is wasted 
against the science of Thebes. Science and generalship win the 
battle for Epaminondas. All the stress of the battle fell upon 
the limited front where Spartan and Theban were locked in their 
death-struggle. Hardly anywhere else were the infantry lines 
engaged. Leuctra was fought and won just where Epaminon- 
das intended it should be — on his Sacred Band. 

And now, bearing their dying leader as their forefathers had 
borne Leonidas at Thermopylae, the Spartans fell back fighting 
until they reached their camp. Then the Thebans were called 
off, and in perfect order Epaminondas retired his wearied left 
wing to the support of the rest of his line. The Lacedaemonians 
could fight no longer, for their losses had been from their very 
best. Their general dying, their leaders killed, only three hun- 
dred of the city troops of Sparta left of the seven hundred who 
so confidently swept forward in the triumphant charge of the 
morning, the allies now lukewarm or utterly disheartened, there 
was nothing left for them but to beg permission to bury their 
dead and go. Fifteen hundred men of Lacedaemon were, by the 
grace of Thebes, gathered and interred there upon the field 
where they had fought so fruitlessly and well, and five hundred 



THE CONQUEROR EPAMINONDAS. 



63 



years afterwards the shields and weapons of their principal war- 
riors still ornamented the temples of Thebes. 

Only twenty days had elapsed since he quitted the hall of 
convention in Sparta, and here, on the field of Leuctra, with a 
loss of not more than four hundred of his men, Epaminondas 
stood the conqueror of the time-honored leaders and heroes of 
Greece. Sparta had gone down before the phalanx of Thebes. 




BATTLE-FIELD OF LEUCTRA. 



MANTINEA. 




362 B. C. 

INE years after Leuctra, Thebes and Sparta 
again met in battle far more important in point 
of numbers engaged and in its results. Leuctra 
is memorable as the first battle fought on the 
new tactical ideas introduced by Epaminon- 
das ; Mantinea as the last he ever fought, and 
the end of Theban supremacy. 

During the eight intervening years there had 
been no peace between the rival states. Pelopidas, the great co- 
adjutor of Epaminondas, had been killed in action in 363 B.C., 
and a large Theban army in 362 was marching to and fro in 
the Peloponnesus striking at Sparta and her allies. Epaminon- 
das himself was in command. He had made an unsuccessful 
assault on Sparta, and followed it up by another equally unsuc- 
cessful against the city of Mantinea. Both attempts had been 
defeated by fortuitous accidents, and now two large armies were 
confronting each other on an elevated plain in the very heart 
of the Peloponnesus, about forty miles due north of Sparta. 

This plain, now called Tripolitza, is about 2,000 feet abovej 
the sea-level. It is hemmed in on all sides by mountains ; is 
about ten miles in length from north to south, and in its widest 
part is about eight miles across. The city of Mantinea lay at 
the northern end, while that of Tegea was at the southern. The 
province in which lay the plain was then and is now called Ar- 
cadia, and the site of Mantinea is now occupied by a little town 
called Palaeopoli. 

About four miles south of Mantinea the mountains east and 
west seem to send out a long spur, forming a ridge across the 
(64) 



COMPOSITION OF THE FORCES. 65 

plain, through which, about the middle, was a depression, and 
through this depression ran the road from Tegea to Mantinea. 

Along this ridge, facing south, was formed the army of Sparta 
and her allies, old King Agesilaus of Sparta being himself 
present, it is believed, though now in his eightieth year. Be- 
sides the hoplites of his own city and of Lacedaemon generally 
there were gathered there a fine body of Athenian cavalry, and 
all the infantry of Mantinea and other towns of Arcadia ; also 
the available troops of Elis and Achaia, the provinces bordering 
Arcadia on the west and north. The entire force numbered 
probably about 22,000 men, of whom 2,000 were cavalry. 

And now Epaminondas (who had been resting his men within 
the walls of Tegea after the rapid marching required in the 
attempted surprise of Sparta and Mantinea) determined upon a 
pitched battle with his antagonists. Of the exact number in his 
army we have no definite account. Xenophon and Diodorus 
are both accused of strong leaning to the Spartan side, exag- 
gerating the numbers of the Thebans. It seems probable that 
the forces actually engaged in the battle were about equally 
matched. Epaminondas had between two and three thousand 
horse, but they had been roughly handled in the cavalry fight 
with the Athenians around the wall of Mantinea a few days pre- 
vious. They were all native Thebans and Thessalians. The 
infantry of his army was made up by the celebrated Theban 
Sacred Band and the Boeotian hoplites, footmen of Eubcea and 
Thessaly, Locrians and other allies of northern Greece. Then 
from the Peloponnesus he had been joined by all the Arcadians 
living along the Spartan frontier and hating the Spartans for old 
aggressions, and the Argeians and Messenians who had joined 
him for similar reasons. Both armies were filled with long tried 
and hardy soldiers ; both were confident of success, and eager 
for the coming battle. 

In the army of Epaminondas the order, " Prepare for battle," 
was received with great enthusiasm ; the horsemen whitened 
their helmets ; the hoplites burnished up their arms and shields 
and sharpened sword and spear. Even the Arcadian peasants 
and villagers, who had nothing but clubs, were eager to take 



6(5 MANTINEA. 

their part in the fray, and so decorated their puny wooden shields 
with the Theban colors. The army marched out from the gates 
of Tegea full of hope and confidence. 

Once outside the gates, Epaminondas arranged his order of 
march. He with his chosen Thebans and Boeotians in the ex- 
treme lead ; the Messenians, Arcadians, Eubceans followed, and 
last of all came the Argeians. The formation must have been 
peculiar, and was evidently the result of a good deal of study 
and planning. The road was broad ; the plain open and unob- 
structed. At the head of column strode the phalanx of Thebes, 
marching in files fifty deep, each " lochus," or company of fifty, 
headed by its " lochage," or captain, acting as file leader. Just 
how many of these files of fifty there were marching side by 
side we do not know. The Sacred Band alone would have six 
files, and it is probable that the other Theban battalions were 
no smaller than it — 300 men, and it would seem that at least 
two, and probably three or four, of these battalions marched side 
by side, forming a front of at least twelve and possibly of twenty- 
four men. This very deep, compact and heavy formation, how- 
ever, was confined to the Thebans and Boeotians. The Eubce- 
ans, Thessalians, and the Peloponnesian allies marched in lighter 
order, but all well closed toward the head of the column; no 
such thing as straggling or opening out being permitted. 

From the gates of Tegea to the ridge on which the army of 
Sparta stood waiting their coming was perhaps five miles and a 
half, and until the last of his army was well outside those gates 
Epaminondas marched squarely up the road towards the centre 
of the enemy's position. Then all at once the whole army be- 
gan to incline well over to the west until it almost reached the 
foothills of the range, and now, disposing his cavalry along his 
right flank, the Theban commander resumed his northward 
march. He was aiming so as to march between the right flank 
of the Spartans and the mountains to the west. The move 
puzzled them, and the Spartan leaders could not understand its 
object. They crowded together in consultation, for the same 
extraordinary system prevailed, no one man being in chief com- 
mand. Up to the day of Leuctra, as has been said, there was 



EPAMINONDAS' NEW TACTICS. Qf 

only one recognized way of fighting a battle — a simultaneous 
attack along the whole front. There, however, Epaminondas 
had taught Greece a lesson in fighting tactics that kept them 
all in awe of him. They were prepared to have him throw for- 
ward his right or his left in heavy charging column now, but — 
what did this mean ? From all accounts it would appear that 
by keeping his cavalry well out between him and the enemy 
Epaminondas prevented their seeing his formation. Otherwise 
there can be no excuse for the inaction of the Spartans then, or 
after the Thebans had halted. 

At all events, utterly unmolested, Epaminondas marched his 
column on up the ridge until the head of it was beyond or at 
least squarely in line with the Spartan right. Here he halted his 
men, closed their ranks, and then, deliberately facing them to 
their right, toward the east that is, he commanded " ground 
arms ; " and the wondering army of Lacedaemon came to the con- 
clusion that Thebes did not mean to fight that day. They had 
simply marched up to get within range, and now they were going 
into camp for a good rest before trying conclusions on the mor- 
row. Nobody seemed capable of explaining the matter other- 
wise. They could not see what Epaminondas himself was doing 
at the head of column because that veil of horsemen was still out 
between the Mantineans on their right and the Thebans and 
Boeotians ; but, back toward the centre and rear, it was plain to 
see that the Messenians, Arcadian renegades, as the Manti- 
neans regarded their countrymen serving with Thebes, and the 
Argeians had laid down their spears and shields and were idly 
waiting in ranks for the order to go into camp. Of course a 
corresponding change had to be made in the direction of the 
Spartan line so as to face that of Thebes, and probably before 
breaking ranks the change was made, swinging round in a great 
wheel to the west ; but then, with the Mantineans and Lacedae- 
monians on their right and right centre, the allies in the centre, 
the Athenians on the left, and beyond them the skilled horsemen 
of Athens, the army of Sparta threw down shield and spear, 
horsemen took off their own breastplates and the bridles of their 
steeds, and in easy confidence and disorder sprawled about the 



68 MANTINEA. 

plain. On their right, however, their Eleian horsemen had to 
keep on the alert, for there they were confronted by the restless 
and mysterious movements of the Theban cavalry. 

And now, behind that cavalry screen, what was Epaminondas 
doing? Resuming in silence its arms and shields, the phalanx 
of Thebes and Bceotia was wheeled to the right, so as to bring 
each "lochage" or file-leader toward the Mantineans. Standing 
as they now did the new front of these battalions projected some 
distance out beyond the general line, which was never more than 
eight files in depth except the mass with which Epaminondas 
proposed to charge; and here, just as at Leuctra, he had formed 
it on the left of his line. Next the cavalry are suddenly 
drawn aside, the Theban and Thessalian horsemen trotting into 
their places on the left of the phalanx so as to face the horsemen 
of Elis. Another body rides off to the right rear of the Boeotian 
battalions to protect them in case the Athenian horse should de- 
fect the move in time and strive to sweep down along the whole 
length of the line and take the phalanx in flank. Everything 
had been planned by Epaminondas beforehand. Everything 
moved like clock-work. Even the peltasts or light troops whom 
he designed to have act with the horsemen in the intervals be- 
tween their squadrons, even they were in place as the cavalry 
swept off to right and left, and revealed to the amazed eyes of 
the Spartan army the grand phalanx of Thebes — a bristling, 
compact, metallic mass just springing forward to the attack. At 
the same instant the signal " Take arms ! " rang along the Theban 
line, and the ready soldiers seized shield and spear, awaiting the 
signal to advance. 

And now, in haste and confusion, the allies of the Peloponnesus 
run to their places in ranks. Only the Eleian cavalry has re- 
mained ready for action, but, before they can trot to the front to 
throw themselves upon the left flank of the advancing Thebans, 
with wild shouts and clangor the horsemen of Bceotia and Thes- 
saly, ranged in deep columns somewhat like the infantry, come 
tearing down upon them in full charge. The men of Elis are 
only four deep ; the squadrons of Thebes are at least twelve, and 
mass and velocity are both in their favor. In three minutes the 



GREEK MEETS GREEK. 69 

Peloponnesian horsemen are tumbled over the plain or sent scat- 
tering off to the rear. Meantime the infantry has formed its 
lines, eight deep, and yet the men have barely got their places 
before the phalanx is upon them. There, foremost of all, after 
the fashion of the day, fights Epaminondas ; the general-in-chief, 
armed and equipped like any of his comrades, on foot, with 
spear, sword, and shield, leads his men into battle. The stoutest, 
bravest of his officers fight by his side. Then comes the front 
rank of the phalanx, made up as it is of the most stalwart sol- 
diers of them all, the " lochages;" then, close at their heels, the 
compact thousand, moving with cadenced step as one powerful 
man. The shock is irresistible. In vain Sparfcans and Manti- 
neans throw themselves upon the wall of shields. They cannot 
penetrate that solid front; they cannot bring mass enough to 
check the headway of that united rush. They fight desperately, 
gallantly; they back one another up; their overlapping flanks 
crowd in towards the centre. No man shirks, but they have no 
organization to resist this organized assault. Epaminondas with 
his tactics and science is sweeping all before him. Still the 
Spartans will not turn ; they are borne backward, but fighting 
every inch of the way. Greek has met Greek in deadly grapple, 
and now indeed is the tug of war. Then the Theban cavalry 
falls upon the flank of the Mantineans, and at last, as the head 
of the phalanx bursts through the opposing masses, the Spartans 
had to turn, had to run. And when Sparta could turn tail no 
other Greek need be ashamed to go. Noiv, as the Theban right 
and centre sweep forward in support, their opponents, even the 
men of gallant Attica, make no resistance of any consequence. 
In consternation at the utter rout of Sparta they too fall back 
before triumphant foemen, and the whole army of the Pelopon- 
nesus is in full retreat. 

But at what cost? Pressing forward in the ardor of pursuit, 
after killing a Spartan officer in hand-to-hand conflict, Epami- 
nondas receives a thrusting spear full in the breast, and is brought 
to earth. He had turned probably to cheer on his soldiers, had 
forgotten for an instant his guard, and a Spartan officer, seizing 
the opportunity, had dealt the fatal blow, leaving his spear 



70 



MANTINEA. 



quivering in the body of the victor ; the handle broke, but the 
barbed point had taken deep root. 

The news spread like wildfire. The pursuit was instantly 
abandoned ; the army of Sparta was allowed to form again some- 
few miles away. All the Thebans crowded in dismay about 
their prostrate chief. All their hopes, all their confidence had 
been centred on him. Without him they were paralyzed, and 
what should have been an overwhelming and decisive blow to 
Sparta was turned into a mere temporary victory for Thebes. 

Epaminondas felt that his wound was mortal. The surgeons 
assured him that if the spear-head were withdrawn the rush of 
blood would end his life. First he inquired if his shield and 
arms were safe, and was assured that they were. Then he 
called for the two officers whom he most trusted, and to one of 
whom he probably intended to delegate the command. Both 
had been killed in the charge. " Then you must make peace 
with the enemy," said he, for there was now no one left who was 
competent to command. Then he directed the spear-head to be 
withdrawn, and with it the life went out of the greatest soldier 
Greece had yet known. With it the power of Thebes departed. 
Peace was signed on the basis of an independence of the separate 
states, and the era of Epaminondas was over. 








'W&- °P^ LS ^ f '*%• 



BATTLE-FIELD OF MANTINEA. 




ARBELA. 

331 B. C. 

ITH the death of Epaminondas at Mantinea 
all thought of Theban conquest died with 
him. His was the master mind of his day, 
and without him his state fell back to her 
former rank, and then, some twenty years 
after, all Greece found itself attacked an 
speedily overcome by a new antagonist- 
a neighbor hitherto little known and less 
feared. Rugged Macedon, her northern 
borderer, swept down and became mistress of the confederacy. 

In the old days of the military school at Thebes, while train- 
ing his Sacred Band, Epaminondas had received and educated 
a soldierly young Macedonian, a man who three years after 
Mantinea became ruler of his own province, and who speedily 
turned to good account the teachings of his youth. Philip, King 
of Macedon, began his reign in 359 B. C, and to him is due all 
credit for the adoption or invention of the most perfect military 
system known even to warlike Greece — a system that speedily 
made him the conqueror of all the nations around him ; that 
eventually made his renowned son the conqueror of the known 
world. Alexander the Great, when only twenty years of age, 
sprang to the throne vacated by the murder of his father, and 
during the eleven years of his reign he won a name as warrior, 
leader and general that has never been excelled. As a successful 
soldier he stands perhaps without a peer. 

The boyhood of this renowned chieftain had been spent mainly 
at the court of his father, King Philip. For his tutor and mentor, 
no less a scholar than the great Aristotle had been selected, 

(71) 



72 ARBELA. 

and his education, mental and physical, had been far more 
thorough than that of the noble youth of his day. His delight 
was in the history of warfare, however, and all his energies were 
bent to the mastery of that one science. His boyhood had 
been passed in scenes of strife, for the drunken old king on more 
than one occasion had striven to slay him in some insane fit of 
rage. Between father and son there was no accord; and it was 
with eagerness, not filial regret, that Alexander took up the 
reins of government before he had fairly reached his majority. 
A brief campaign in southern Greece secured him the submission 
of Athens, already crippled by Thebes and Sparta. Then in 
solemn convention at Corinth he was chosen Imperator of the 
Greeks, despite the opposition of Sparta. Then followed his 
sharp and decisive war with Thrace, and a short campaign across 
the Danube, both eminently successful from a military point of 
view. But during his absence, emboldened by rumors of his 
death in distant lands, the Thebans rose and threw off the Mace- 
donian yoke, and then, to their consternation, after a wonder- 
fully rapid and skillful march, Alexander appeared suddenly 
before their gates to avenge the insult of their disloyalty. 
Thebes was razed to the ground and its garrison, scorning to 
plead for mercy, died to a man, sword in hand, while, to the 
lasting shame and subsequent bitter regret of the conqueror, 
hundreds of helpless women and children were slaughtered in 
cold blood. 

All this was accomplished within a year of his accession to 
the throne. His rule throughout the states of southeastern 
Europe was now undisputed, and with eager eyes he turned east- 
ward. There lay the fabulous wealth of the empire that for 
years had threatened and, up to the day of their crushing defeat 
at Plataea, invaded Greece. From his very boyhood the dream 
of his life had been the conquest of that array of nations still 
following the banners of the Great King, and, now that all was 
peace and quiet at home, he rapidly prepared for a counter- 
invasion. 

Alexander had neither wealth nor even 100,000 men. Macedon 
was poor, and Greece had been engaged in ceaseless civil strife 



REMARKABLE CAREER OF ALEXANDER. • 73 

for an entire century and was well-nigh reduced to poverty. 
Alexander had the upper hand, however, and held it with iron 
grasp. It was indispensable that he should leave at home a suf- 
ficient force and an energetic viceroy to check incipient insur- 
rection before he could feel at liberty to move; and the home 
garrisons having been selected, and one of his father's most 
trusted officers — Antipater — assigned as ruler in his absence, 
with full power to summarily crush any sedition or revolt that 
might arise, the young King of Macedon proceeded at once to 
Pella to organize his invading force. 

With only 30,000 infantry, 4,500 cavalry, and a small " train " 
of projectile-throwing machines, Alexander was ferried across 
the Hellespont in his own vessels and entered upon a series of 
conquests the like of which the world never saw. Macedonian 
by birth, he never again returned to the state of his nativity ; he 
never recrossed the straits. Adding year by year, month by 
month, to his immense possessions in Asia, he lived and died in 
the new empire won by his sword. 

Small as was his army, it was the most efficient ever yet seen 
upon the plains of Greece. It was the perfected machine of a 
century of experiment. 

Already the Macedonian phalanx, the creation of King Philip, 
had made itself known in Greece. Designed only to fight on 
open ground, and mainly to overcome the hitherto invincible 
hoplites of Athens, Sparta and Thebes, it was an established 
success. It had hurled back the heavy-armed pike and spear- 
men of Hellas, and the ponderous depth of the charging column, 
the tactical offspring of Epaminondas, was powerless against it. 
Unwieldy as an anvil though it may seem to us to-day, it had 
its uses. It was never beaten, says the historian Polybius, when 
attacked in front or on ground suitable for its massive man- 
oeuvres. Later we shall see how a still more scientific order, the 
Roman legion, ground it into powder. 

At the time of the first campaign of Alexander the " phalan- 
gites" of Macedonia were drawn up in separate files, each called 
a loch us, of sixteen stalwart men ; the first man, or file-leader, 
was selected for superior strength, skill, courage and endurance; 



74 ARBELA. 

he was graded as a non-commissioned officer ; the second, third 
and last men of the file were also picked soldiers, receiving 
higher pay than their fellows. While the lochus may have been 
the unit of organization, the lowest subdivision which appears to 
have been maintained and manoeuvred as a distinct command 
was the syntagma, a square battalion of sixteen lochi : a solid 
mass of men sixteen front, sixteen deep, each man having about 
two feet " fighting space." 

Allowing one foot depth and about twenty-two inches width 
or front as the space occupied by a soldier in ranks, and two feet 
space from back to breast throughout the files, we have a depth 
of forty-eight feet for the syntagma, and the front being equal 
to the depth there was a trifle over one foot of space between the 
shoulders of the men in the same rank or line. This space was 
needed, as will be seen when their armament is described. To 
each syntagma, posted outside the square, were attached five 
officers — the commander, a syntagmatarch (corresponding to our 
major), whose position was in front of the centre; a second in 
command, who stood in rear of the battalion ; an adjutant, a 
herald and a trumpeter, who accompanied the chief. 

When the casualties of war reduced the number of men in a 
syntagma and the vacancy could not be filled, a reduction was 
made in the front of the command, never in its depth. Sixteen 
deep was the invariable formation of the Macedonian phalanx, 
far deeper than had been considered necessary by any nation 
except Thebes. 

Such was the massive formation of the phalanx of Alexander. 
Now as to its armament — this, too, the device of King Philip. 
All Greece had done its fighting for years past with a sharp and 
heavy spear, falling back on its short sword only when the spear 
was broken or wrenched away. This spear, heavy as it was, and 
somewhat unwieldy, was handled only with the right, the left 
arm being cumbered with a ponderous shield that covered 
almost the entire person, and which could itself be used as an 
offensive weapon in headlong charge. 

Philip discarded the great shield, put a breast-plate on his pha- 
langites, and into their hands, both of which it took to wield it, 



THE ARMAMENT OF KING PHILIP. 75 

a tremendous spear, not less than twenty-one, some say twenty- 
four feet in length from tip to butt — the far-famed Macedonian 
sarissa. 

Advancing to the charge, or repelling attack, this weapon, 
grasped in both hands, was lowered nearly to the horizontal. It 
projected at least fifteen feet in front of the spearman, and the re- 
maining six or eight feet behind the hands was weighted to form 
a partial balance. The spears of the second rank projected 
twelve feet, those of the third nine feet, those of the fourth six, 
and those of the fifth three feet beyond the soldiers of the fore- 
most rank, the lochages themselves ; so that any soldier armed 
with pike, poniard or sword would have to hew his way in 
through all these spear-heads before he could hope to reach the 
foeman himself. The sixth and following ranks did not lower 
the spear to the horizontal, but held it sloping over the shoulders 
of the ranks in front. 

This was the heavy infantry ot Macedon, and to aid them, to 
cover their flanks and rear, were the light infantry of the line — 
shield and pike-bearers, drilled and disciplined like Grecian hop- 
lites, but trained for hand-to-hand combat. At first Alexander 
had but few of these guards, as he termed them — hypaspists as 
they are generally known — but they proved their usefulness on 
many a field, and were soon greatly added to. These infantry- 
men of the line occupied an intermediate place between the pha- 
langites and the skirmishers (peltastae), who were selected always 
from the auxiliaries, and at the time of his review of the army 
after entering Asia Minor and before his first encounter witS 
Persia, his infantry was divided as follows : Phalangites and hy- 
paspists, 12,000; peltastae, 7,000; mercenary troops, 5,000; 
Thracian and Illyrian footmen, 5,000; archers, 1,000. 

Admirable as was the organization of his infantry, Alexander 
seems to have taken most pride in the Macedonian cavalry, the 
favorite arm of the nation for years. " Companions " he termed 
his heavy cavalry, who were all native Macedonians, and of 
these, one pet squadron, the Agema, was the " King's Own," for 
at its head Alexander himself charged in person. Heavily clad 
in defensive armor, these horsemen carried a xyston, or heavy 



76 ARBELA. 

thrusting pike, a dreaded weapon in a melee, and a terrible foe- 
man did this heavy cavalryman prove in the shock of combat. 
To aid him and to cover his flanks, as the hypaspists sheltered 
those of the phalanx, was a large and well-trained body of light 
horse — lancers, in fact — armed with a light but long and power- 
ful sarissa. Then, again, it was soon in the power of Alexander 
to organize a very efficient body of irregulars from among the 
horsemen of the nations he overran, so that both in cavalry and 
infantry he was provided with three distinct classes of troops : 
the " heavies," for attack in solid mass, bearing all before them 
in the impetus and weight of the charge ; the intermediate, or 
light linesmen, covering the flanks of the unwieldy mail-clad foot 
and horse, but fighting in serried ranks themselves ; and third, 
skirmishers and irregulars, hovering like falcons over front, flank 
and rear, the eyes and ears of his army. 

In addition to these troops and a rude artillery useful only 
when it came to the assault of fortified cities, Alexander had 
grouped about his person a corps of chosen men, the Body 
Guards, recruited from the sons of the chief men of Macedon, 
organized first as Royal Pages ; then, after severe training, to fit 
them for the bodily wear and tear demanded of those who were to 
accompany the monarch, himself the most energetic, untiring 
athlete of them all, they joined his guard, and from this promi- 
nent position under his vigilant eye were selected for various im- 
portant duties, being detached as adjutants for the various gen- 
erals or frequently assigned to high commands. The Royal 
Pages were the cadet corps of Macedon. 

Over them all was the monarch himself, a man of superb 
physique, a man of iron constitution and dauntless courage, a 
man who added to infinite personal bravery and restless energy 
the rapid inspiration of a military genius. Quick to seize on 
every and any advantage, quick to act, making his strategical 
combinations with unerring skill, and handling his troops upon 
the field of battle with rare tactical ability, planning everything 
before the fight, giving his orders with the clearness of day, then 
sharing the brunt of battle with the humblest soldier. 

Opposed to him and them was a new Darius. Of this mon- 



NAPOLEON'S CRITIQUE. 77 

arch we know very little. He was accepted as ruler without 
much opposition apparently by the Persians ; was a descendant 
of one of the brothers of Artaxerxes Metnnon, and had killed a 
formidable antagonist in single combat, so his authority was pas- 
sively accepted. He made himself conspicuous, however, by 
boasting that he had instigated the murder of Philip of Macedon, 
and by sneering at the boy-king who succeeded him — two 
things he learned speedily to regret. 

Persia had no such infantry as in the old days, either in num- 
ber or discipline. Her cavalry was still powerful and efficient, 
but when Darius hastened his forces toward the Hellespont to 
confront the army of Alexander, he could muster less than thirty 
thousand footmen. The fatal error had been committed of per- 
mitting the Macedonians to cross the straits, and now with only 
twenty odd thousand infantry, but at least that many well- 
equipped horsemen, all under command of a skillful general, 
Memnon, an attempt was made to fight in the open field. 

No more terse, comprehensive and soldierly critique of the 
campaign that followed has ever been written probably than that 
of the great Napoleon, who placed Alexander as one of the seven 
greatest generals of the world. Five days after leaving the Hel- 
lespont Alexander had forced the passage of the Granicus, scat- 
tering to the winds the army of Memnon. " He spent the whole 
year 333 in establishing his power in Asia Minor," says Napo- 
leon. " In the year 332 he met with Darius at the head of sixty 
thousand men who had taken up a position near Tarsus, on the 
banks of the Issus, in the province of Cilicia. He defeated him, 
took Damascus, which contained all the riches of the great king, 
and laid siege to Tyre. This superb metropolis of the commerce 
of the world detained him nine months. He took Gaza after a 
siege of two months, crossed the desert in seven days, entered 
Pelusium and Memphis, and founded Alexandria. In less than 
two years, after two battles and four or five sieges, the coasts of 
the Black Sea, from Phazis to Byzantium (now Constantinople), 
those of the Mediterranean as far as Alexandria, all Asia Minor, 
Syria and Egypt had submitted to his arms." 

Such, in brief, is the summary of one great soldier and con- 



78 ARBELA. 

queror of the two years' campaign of a great predecessor. It was 
in the year 331 that, returning from Egypt, Alexander re-entered 
Damascus, crossed the Euphrates and Tigris, and won the bloody 
and decisive battle of Arbela. 

Darius Codomannus had turned out to be a coward of the 
worst order. At the battle of the Issus, in the previous year, he 
fled from the field in absolute panic, leaving his mother, his wife 
and children to fall into the hands of the victor. He led the re- 
treat in which so many of his thousands, hemmed in by the walls 
of the mountain defile through which they were compelled to rush 
for their lives, were trampled under foot by their own comrades. 
It is impossible to understand how the knights of Persia, who were 
unquestionably brave and warlike men, could ever have rallied 
to his defence a second time, but they did ; and on reaching Da- 
mascus on his return from Egypt, Alexander learned that Darius 
with an immense army lay east of the Tigris or Euphrates ready 
to contest his march to the interior. At the Issus the Persians 
were compelled to fight on ground where their numerical supe- 
riority hampered rather than aided them, but east of the Tigris, 
near the village of Gaugamela, lay a broad plain most favorable 
for the evolutions of a great body of men, and here Darius de- 
termined to make his stand. To this end he established his camp 
of supply at Arbela, some twenty miles east of the position which 
he had selected, and then systematically prepared the field for the 
coming conflict. This was to be the third and final attempt of 
Persia to crush the now dreaded conqueror. Ruin must inevi- 
tably await the vanquished army. If Alexander should prevail, 
all Persia lay at his feet. Babylon, Susa, Persepolis, the wealthy 
capitals, lay but a short distance to the south. On the other 
hand, could Darius but gather sufficient force to overwhelm the 
Macedonian, there would be no further foe to dread, for with the 
Tigris and Euphrates behind them, the army of Greece would be 
cut off from all possibility of retreat to the seaboard, and their 
fate would be annihilation. 

So far as number was concerned, Darius had no difficulty in 
bringing to his standard an army abundantly sufficient to over- 
whelm, outflank, surround and eventually destroy the solid 



THE CHOSEN BATTLE-FIELD. 79 

little force of Macedon. Forty-seven thousand, all told, was 
the limit of the command, at the head of which Alexander 
crossed the Euphrates ; we have it from the journals of his two 
distinguished generals, Aristobulus and Ptolemy, whose records 
of the entire campaign have become the keystones of history, 
and against that number it was in the power of Darius to mar- 
shal at least ten to one. His cavalry force alone is put at forty 
thousand ; his infantry, archers and javelin-throwers were in 
myriads. Arrian says there were a million, but half that number 
would be more than Darius could handle in action. Elephants 
armed and caparisoned for war made their first appearance on a 
battle-field at Arbela ; for, with all his numbers, Darius knew 
that some device must be resorted to to break through the 
hitherto impenetrable wall of the phalanx, and now he believed 
he had solved the problem. Two hundred war-chariots, drawn 
by powerful horses, driven by mail-clad men, provided with sharp 
scythes jutting out from the axles, and sword-blades projecting 
from the end of the pole, were daily exercised in charging across 
the plain. Every hillock had been razed, every hollow filled so 
as to present a level track for their advance, and with these en- 
gines and his huge elephants, urged at headlong speed, Darius 
counted upon crushing his way into the heart of the phalanx, 
and then, launching forth his cavalry, to hew it into fragments. 

Confidently awaiting the coming of Alexander, he posted his 
immense force upon this plain of Kurdistan, facing a little west 
of north, his left resting near the Tigris, his right near the river 
Zab, a rapid and difficult branch that had taken him five days to 
cross. In front of him lay the vast level, along which he invited 
the foe to advance ; beyond that, three short miles away, lay the 
low range of hills, over which Alexander must come. Already 
Darius knew of his crossing of the Tigris, five days' march 
above him. Confident in his ability to crush, he had not op- 
posed by a single arm the transfer of the Macedonian army to the 
eastern bank. He wanted them to cross. It would place them 
utterly in his power. 

And now, deployed upon the field on which the destiny of 
Asia was to be decided, stood the army of King Darius. The 



30 ARBELA. 

left wing, under command of Bessus, Satrap of Baktria, was made 
up of Baktrians, Dahae and Arachosians, the native Persians, 
both horse and foot, the Susians and Kadusians. In the centre 
of the entire line was Darius himself, with his chosen horse-guard, 
his division of Persian spearmen, successors of the " Immortals " 
of Xerxes, now carrying golden apples at the butt of their 
spears ; Karians and Mardians, his best archers, and the strong 
division of hireling Greeks, the only troops he dared hope could 
successfully cope with the phalanx should the phalanx force its 
resistless way in upon his chosen position. : 

On the right lay the Syrians ; then in order, from right to left, 
the Medes, Parthians, Sacae, Tapyrians, Hyrkanians, Albanians, 
and Sakesinse. This was the main line. To the rear were vast 
forces from Babylon and the deserts to the west, the wilds to the 
east of Susiana. These seem to have been the reserves. In 
front of the left wing, nearest the Tigris, were posted one hundred 
of the scythed chariots, guarded by picked bodies of cavalry, 
Scythians and Baktrians. Fifty more were in front of Darius in 
the centre, and the remaining fifty in front of the right wing, 
covered by cavalry escorts from the Armenians and Cappadocians. 

From the fact that the preponderance of his force was from 
the centre to the left, it would seem that Darius expected 
Alexander to " hug " the Tigris in his advance, keeping his right 
secure from being flanked — a very reasonable supposition. And 
now, armed far better than they had ever been before, with strong 
swords and formidable thrusting-pikes in place of the puny jave- 
lins of the past, and protected for the first time in their history, 
the infantry by shields, the horsemen by breast-plates, the great 
army of Darius impatiently awaited the coming of the foe. 

But Alexander was in no hurry. Throwing forward a suf- 
ficient force to hold the crossing at Thapsacus on the Euphrates, 
he, by easy marches, reached that point about the end of August, 
crossed and turned northward toward the mountains instead of 
southward through the deserts, beyond which lay Babylon and 
Susa. Carefully watching the bearing of his men, guarding them 
against unnecessary suffering or fatigue, he felt his way along the 
foothills towards the Tigris, and about the 20th of September 





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FIRST SIGHT OF THE FOE. $\ 

learned that somewhere down around the town of Gaugamela 
Darius awaited his coming. Then, for a day or two, he hurried 
forward, seized the fords of the Tigris, and, unopposed by the 
Persians, but with great difficulty and danger, marched his army 
through the deep, rushing waters, and halted on the east bank 
to take breath, and two great rivers lay between him and his 
ships and supplies, three weeks' march away. 

A short rest is taken here while the scouts feel their way 
down to the southward, but they bring no definite tidings, and 
once more cautiously, steadily, the army of Macedon sets forth. 
For four days it moves down along the left bank of the Tigris. 
It is toward the evening of the fourth day that the advance 
sends in word of the presence of hostile cavalry, and Alexander, 
dashing in person to the front, charges, scatters them, captures a 
few prisoners, and from them learns that Darius with an immense 
army awaits him near Gaugamela on the plain below. He halts 
his army and goes forward to reconnoitre. Gaugamela lies be- 
yond a low range of hills to the southward, and there a tre- 
mendous struggle must take place. With wise discretion he 
rests his men four days more, that they may be fresh and vigor- 
ous for the fray; intrenches meantime his camp, places therein 
all stores, engines of war and equipage not needed in conflict in 
the open plain ; weeds his army of all weak men or ineffectives, fills 
up every gap in the sturdy phalanx; and then, with nothing but 
a superb and unhampered fighting force, he moves forward on 
the night of the fourth day of rest, deploys his line of battle, and 
in serried order marches upon the northern slope of the low hills, 
once again halting at their summit. From east to west the 
plain below swarms with the countless hordes of Darius. It is 
just daybreak, and Alexander pauses to survey the field. Away 
off to his own right flows the rapid Tigris ; far over towards the 
east leaps the torrent of the foaming Zab, and nearly from stream 
to stream stretches the great line of Asia's countless soldiery. 
With the practised eye of the veteran soldier, Alexander marks 
their vast superiority of numbers. Extend his line though he 
may, even in thin rank, he cannot cover that front. He marks 
the solid formation of the mercenary Greeks in the Persian cen- 
6 



82 ARBELA. 

tre, the threatening squadrons far out beyond his left, the mass- 
ing of the war-chariots on the Persian left and centre ; and, gazing 
along the plain, he sees where the engineers have been at work, 
the patches of freshly upturned earth — what do they portend? 
Pitfalls for his cavalry? What else, if not that? Too much is 
at stake to hazard an ill-advised move. He summons his gen- 
erals to immediate council. There on the heights they cluster, 
well out in front of the lines of Macedon, and the trained 
warriors, resting on their spears, watch with eager yet trustful 
eyes the deliberations of their chiefs. Fiery, impetuous men are 
there, leaders who have learned contempt for Persian prowess or 
valor, and many and vehement are the appeals for immediate at- 
tack. Around the king are grouped such soldiers as Aristobu- 
lus, his recorder and trusted aid ; Philotas, chief of his horse- 
guards ; Nicanor, general of hypaspists ; Meleazer, Ccenus, 
Perdiccas, Simmais, Polysperchon and Craterus, brigade com- 
manders of the great phalanx; Eriguius, of the allied cavalry; 
Philippus, of the Thessalian horse, and, above all, the veteran 
Parmenio, cool, clear-headed, cautious, but indomitably brave. 
The men of Macedon were safe in the hands of such tried war- 
riors as these. Urgent as were some appeals for instant attack, 
the wiser counsel of Parmenio prevailed. Alexander spent the 
day in personally reconnoitring the entire plain, escorted by a 
small band of cavalry, but undisturbed by the enemy. His 
stores, supplies, " ineffectives " were moved forward from the 
camp of the night before, a new position intrenched for their 
protection on the heights, and, as the sun went down, Alexander 
summoned his generals once more to his presence, and in brief, 
ringing, soldierly words explained to them the situation, and then 
dismissed them, hopeful and enthusiastic, for their needed rest. 

All through the still September night the Persian army waits 
and wakes expectant of attack. Parmenio indeed had urged 
upon his sovereign the propriety of such attack because of the 
known tendency of the Asiatics to become timid and confused 
except in the open light of day, but Alexander disdained " to 
filch a victory." In fair, soldierly conflict he meant to contest 
with Darius the empire of the East, and so while Persia watches 



DAWN OF DECISIVE BATTLE. 83 

and wearies through till dawn, the veterans of Macedon sleep 
soundly and well, waking with the rising sun vigorous and 
refreshed. 

And now the lines of Greece spring to arms, and before the 
eyes of overwhelming Asia the devoted little army straightens 
out its ranks, the phalanx silently, solidly, moves to the crest, the 
troopers vault into saddle and the squadrons sweep into line. 
Insignificant as may be its numbers when confronted by that vast 
host across the plain, there is that air of confidence and determi- 
nation about the men of Macedon that bids the observer think 
twice before hazarding an opinion as to the result. 

" You fight for the dominion of Asia," Alexander impressed 
upon his men. " Be silent, be steady. Let each man act as 
though the result of the battle depends upon his individual 
effort, and when the time comes to charge let the silence pre- 
served until then make your war-cry the more ringing, the more 
terrible." 

And now as it calmly awaits the signal to advance, the army 
of Alexander is drawn up in two lines, ready, if need be, to in- 
stantly form an immense hollow square, to repel attack on flank 
or rear. In all his career the youthful conqueror is destined to 
fight no battle so glorious as this, his greatest and most decisive ; 
therefore every item of preparation becomes of interest. 

On the right of his front line rode the regiments of horse 
guards, eight in number, each commanded by its colonel, all 
commanded by Philotas, the intrepid son of old Parmenio. On 
their left, at short intervals, are drawn up the light infantry of the 
line, hypaspists. Then, in the centre, in six magnificent brigades, 
stand the massive syntagmata of the phalanx itself, and to their 
left again are the other divisions of hypaspists protecting the 
deep flanks of the heavy brigades, while the light infantry in 
turn are covered by cavalry, as in the right wing ; the regiments 
of Eriguius, all allies, being nearest the footmen, while the ex- 
treme flank is held by the five squadrons of Thessaly. 

In every detail of its formation the line is scientific and sym- 
metrical. The reserve line is equally so. Its centre is composed 
of phalangite infantry, heavy and solid as the brigades of the 



84 ARBELA. 

first line, each flank covered by light infantry and archers, with 
regiments of horse, heavy and mail-clad near the centre, light 
and armed with lances on the extreme flanks. The tried troop- 
ers of Aretus are among those on the right, and their orders are 
to watch well for any attempt of the Persians to wrap around the 
flank of the first line, to charge instantly if the attempt be made, 
and so to outflank the would-be flankers. Similar dispositions 
and orders are given the cavalry of the left wing. A division of 
Thracian footmen is detailed to guard the camp, and all is 
ready. 

Not quite. His careful examination of the plain has taught 
Alexander that those fresh patches of earth are not pit-falls, but 
depressions filled and hillocks graded down. The conclusion is 
obvious. Darius means to attempt to rush his chariots at racing 
speed upon the phalanx and hurl down the hitherto impregna- 
ble wall of spears. What can be done to checkmate so power- 
ful a move ? Out from the ranks of the allies and light troops 
spring a cloud of elastic, nimble-footed young fellows, keen-eyed 
and daring. For all the world like our modern skirmishers, they 
swarm to the front; their arms are bows or javelins; their 
quivers bristle with arrows. Out still farther they run, two — 
three hundred yards — till the entire front of the phalanx is cov- 
ered by little knots and groups of these eager hunters. Trained 
shots and swift racers as they are, woe to charioteer, woe to 
horse that may dash among them : few will ever penetrate half- 
way toward the bristling wall of spearmen. 

And now, glittering in his brilliant armor, Alexander of Mace- 
don rides with his noble agema to the right front. Parmenio 
takes his station with the left. Well out beyond his bravest 
squadrons the conqueror reins his steed, gives one searching 
glance along his line, and then with mighty throb at heart sig- 
nals the advance. In ominous silence, in perfect order, in mas- 
sive, stately array, with one accord the compact army of Greece 
begins the descent. 

It is the first day of October, three hundred and thirty-one 
years before the birth of Christ, and the stake for which the con- 
test opens is the empire of the world. 



PERSIA'S OPPORTUNITY. §5 

Macedon makes the first move — a general advance of the en- 
tire line until it clears the crest. Then a deflection. Darius, 
nervously watching the machine-like perfection of the manoeuvre, 
waiting until those confident lines shall have swept clear of the 
slopes and entered upon the open plain before making his coun- 
termove, suddenly starts with impatience and disquiet. Alexan- 
der, instead of coming squarely at him, is now inclining to 
the west. The solid phalanx is obliquing to the right, and 
they are still well up the slope. What does it mean ? He 
pauses irresolute, staring at the placidly, smoothly moving troops 
of the opposing array. At this rate the extreme left of the lines 
of Macedon will soon be directly in front of his own position, 
and the phalanx he desires to crush is edging over to his left. 
As yet the vast length of his line far overlaps towards the west 
the right flank of Macedon, but soon even that advantage will 
be lost. Stupefied, possibly, by this utterly unlooked-for move, 
he fails to see and grasp the immense advantage he now has over 
the Grecian left. He is puzzling over the object of Alexander's 
oblique, and while precious moments are wasted, makes no sign. 
Suddenly it flashes upon or is pointed out to him. His wary 
antagonist has read the secret of those tell-tale patches on the 
plain, he expects the dash of those terrible chariots, and is edg- 
ing over towards the Tigris where the hillocks have not been 
leveled, and where the chariots will be powerless. Already he 
is well out upon the plain ; already the phalanx is opposite the 
Persian left. Now or never, Darius, in with your chariots ! 
There is still time for them to act, provided you can check that 
oblique and force him back to the leveled ground. Now, 
Scythians and Baktrians, out with your pikes and cimeters ! 
sweep well over to the left and front, then wheel and crash in 
on that western flank. Away they go — four thousand glorious 
horsemen, their burnished weapons flashing in the sun, their 
wild war-cry thrilling on the air ; but even as they circle like 
poising hawk upon their prey and come thundering in upon the 
Macedonian right, a thunder as deep, a war-cry low, hoarse and 
intense, bursts in upon their own advance. The squadrons of 
Menidas have met them. Aretus has charged forward from the 



86 ARBELA. 

second line, and the horsemen of Bactria and Scythia go down 
in scores before them. No chance for the chariots yet. All the 
cavalry of his left wing Darius launches in to the rescue of his 
first assault, and again the Macedonian second line is equal to 
the emergency, and the regiments of Ariston and Cleander whirl 
to the front. Persia has numbers ; Greece has discipline and 
skill. For a brief half hour, while the first line sturdily moves 
unbroken — while Darius, paralyzed with chagrin, holds in im- 
potent halt his entire centre and right — the battle of Arbela is 
a cavalry combat on the side of the Tigris, and the serried 
squadrons of Greece, animating, supporting, relieving one an- 
other, are hewing through ten times their number of better 
armed horsemen, and presently their disciplined array sends the 
whole force of Persian cavalry of the left wing reeling and 
broken from the field. 

But the oblique is checked, and now for once at least display- 
ing some degree of soldierly vim and dash, Darius hurls forward 
his impatient charioteers. With one simultaneous rush, with hue 
and cry, the thunder of hoofs, the rattle of harness, the roar of 
wheels, tossing skywards huge billows of dust in their wake, the 
two hundred armed chariots sweep down upon the undismayed 
phalanx. Those in front of the Persian left drive straight to the 
front ; those from the centre find their objective point directly 
opposite ; but those from the right centre and right wing have to 
wheel over to the left, converging on the spears of Macedon. 
For an instant the uproar is terrific. Nothing can be seen from 
the Persian centre through that dense cloud of dust ; but the 
shouts of defiance, the horrible din of hammered shields, then 
shrieks and cries of wounded men and the neigh of terror of 
many a stricken horse, come floating back to the eager listeners, 
where, bending forward in their saddles, fresh bodies of cavalry 
impatiently await the result and the signal to charge. The roar 
of the wheels, the thunder of hoofs, is subsiding; then back 
through the dust-cloud come maimed and limping horses ; back 
come empty chariots, and, as the cloud settles to earth, yon 
stands the phalanx impregnable as ever, while the ground in 
front is " heaped with bleeding steeds," dismantled cars and & 



THE PERSIAN CHARGE. 87 

or dying charioteers. Far to the rear of the phalanx some eight 
or ten have managed to push through long lanes made for them 
by the nimble soldiery; but there their drivers are hewn to 
earth and the war-horses are easy prey. More than three-fourths 
of their number never get within reach of the spears. The 
light-footed, daring archers and dart-men pick off drivers and 
horses as they advance, or, racing beside them, cut the traces or 
rip open the bodies of the steeds. King Darius marks with rage 
and dismay that the arm on which he had placed his main re- 
liance is as impotent, as harmless as the summer breeze. He 
had ordered a wary advance, calculating on finding confusion 
and dismay in the ranks before him ; but, as the remnants of his 
chariot chargers come drifting back, he sees with utter conster- 
nation the unbroken lines of Macedon, silent, unmoved, impas- 
sive as ever. Now comes the vital moment. He must meet 
those spearmen after all. 

And now, with all its Oriental splendor of costume, all its 
half-barbaric pomp, the great line of Darius surges forward in 
obedience to the orders given as the chariots rushed in. Far 
over to the right Mazseus, impatient of delay, swings out a great 
body of horse from his flank and sends them charging home upon 
the exposed left and lightly defended rear of the Macedonian 
line, while he himself, with a vastly superior force, pushes to the 
front and vigorously attacks the Thessalian horse of Phillipus, 
and crowds in upon the Locrian and Phocian and Peloponnesian 
cavalry nearer the centre. This, indeed, is a spirited attack, and 
fone well calculated to overthrow all before it. But Parmenio, 
cool, steady as a rock, calls up his second line, and with ringing 
shout the Thracian horsemen charge to the rescue. Bold riders 
are they and experts with pike and short sword ; nevertheless 
they are but few compared to the mighty host into which they 
dash so recklessly. They halt, and even hurl them back, but 
weight of numbers is telling sorely against them. For the next 
half hour the left is locked in dubious strife, a rattling hand-to- 
hand combat. Meantime, what of the right ? 

Up to the moment when the dust-cloud settled over the wreck 
of that mad chariot charge not a sound had been heard from 



gg ARBELA. 

the main body, the phalanx of Macedon, or from the heavy cav- 
alry on their right. Now, as the Persian array sweeps forward 
and its eastern flank swings round to envelop his left, the stern- 
set features of the young king light suddenly with an eager joy. 
He points to the front. There, directly on the west flank of the 
Greek mercenaries of Darius, a great gap appears in the line. 
Before the chariot dash, a division of Baktrian cavalry was there 
massed in close column, but now they have been moved around 
in support of the thwarted attack on Alexander's right, and as 
yet they have not been replaced from the second line. It is a 
magnificent chance. Quick as ringing words can shout the 
order, the silence of Macedon is broken ; with one mad, terrific 
shout the body-guards, the devoted " companions," the cuiras- 
siers of Greece spring forward at the heels of their daring chief. 
The cavalry of Macedon plunges into that fatal gap, hewing 
and rending right and left, while the grand phalanx, shouting 
its war-cry, bears down in solid, resistless onslaught upon the 
Persian centre. Before them the Greek hoplites, hirelings of 
Darius, go down like reeds before the blast. They are ashamed 
of their part in the contest. They cannot fight manfully against 
kith and kin for a king whom they despise and only serve for 
gold. They make but faint resistance: they upon whom Darius 
dared base his hope of firmness. And now — his chariots gone, 
his Greeks going — he looks in dismay about him. He cannot 
see how superbly on the distant right his cavalry have engulfed 
the reeling wing of Parmenio ; he cannot see that there are yet 
myriads of his troops unemployed, only waiting the order of 
some inspired chief to send them in to check and overthrow 
these daring foemen ; he will not see that still between him and 
the advancing forest of spears there stand the guards of his realm 
— the heroic and devoted knighthood of Persia; the enthusiastic 
soldiery of Karia ; the Sakae ; the men of the valleys of Eu- 
phrates and Tigris, who now are fighting for their homes. 
Brave as lions they, far outnumbering the phalangites, whose 
six charging brigades are surrounded by their dense throngs. 
He forgets that an army of lions led by a lamb is of no avail 
against an army led by a lion. He sees before him the invincible 



DARIUS' COWARDLY FLIGHT. g9 

spearmen who routed him in panic at the Issus. Worst of all, 
over there to the left front, he sees a sight that freezes the craven 
blood in his veins — a stalwart, herculean, centaur-like warrior, 
clad in burnished mail, hewing his way with frightful force through 
men-at-arms, archers, horsemen, all ; he sees him pointing to- 
wards the very spot on which he is standing quivering in grow- 
ing terror ; he hears his voice ringing above the roar of conflict, 
urging on his invincible guards : " Strike home ; cut through. 
Get him, dead or alive — get him — Darius. There he stands. 
Follow me ! " and Darius can stand no more. Shame, dishonor, 
disgrace, a craven death are before him as he turns ; but before 
his guard can realize it, long before his nobles will believe it, he 
has turned his back upon them ; again, as at Issus, basely, foully, 
contemptibly deserted them, and while they are dying by scores 
in supposed defence of his royal body, he, the dastard and pol- 
troon, is spurring from the field. With victory in his grasp, he 
is sneaking to the mountains. 

Soon the news of his shameful flight is passed from mouth 
to mouth along the panting, bleeding cohorts. Band after band, 
group after group, the faint-hearted ones are falling away; then 
whole squadrons, whole battalions, begin recoiling upon the 
lines in rear ; and they in turn are hearing the tidings, " Darius 
has fled. The king has gone ! " and so, little by little, as the 
cavalry of Macedon hew their way in after their glorious leader 
and those terrible spear-heads at the front thrust deeper into the 
yielding mass before them, the weight of numbers that so long 
has borne against their advance loses its power, and, sudden as 
the burst of mountain torrent through yielding gorge of ice, the 
men of Macedon hurl aside the last remnants of the Persian 
centre, and now all is mad carnage and pursuit. 

Away, stretching out across the plain to the southeast, the 
fugitives, broken, disordered, making no pretence of stand any- 
where, are fleeing for the bridge across the swollen Zab. The 
centre gone, the best troops slaughtered or scurrying after 
their king, the Persian left lost heart, and here the worn but 
gallant cavalry of Menidas and the Paeonian horsemen of Aretus 
overthrew, after long and desperate battle, five times their weight 



90 ARBELA. 

of foes. The Baktrian horse tore away in the wake of Darius, 
and all that was left of the crushed line lay dead or dying on the 
field, or gasping in the dense cloud of dust that obscured their 
path. 

Eagerly Alexander pushes in chase. Above all things, he 
must secure the person of Darius. Great, indescribable as is his 
triumph, it is incomplete without the capture of the Persian king. 
It is with bitter disappointment, therefore, that he receives the 
message from Parmenio : " Come back to us or we are lost." 
The left wing of Macedon was utterly surrounded and cut off 

We left Parmenio struggling in dire earnest with ten times 
his force, while the cuirassiers and the phalangites of Macedon 
charged and broke the Persian centre. Even before that grand 
advance the chiefs of the two left brigades of the phalanx, those 
of Simmais and Craterus, were apprehensive as to the safety of 
the light troops of the left wing. So much so that, though 
taking part in the general rush to the front and attack on the 
Persian centre, they stopped short when it came to pursuit, leav- 
ing the other brigades to complete the rout while they promptly 
faced about and returned to the aid of Parmenio, now desperately 
in need. Even as they retired for this purpose a large force of 
Indian and Persian cavalry, led by some adventurous and gallant 
spirit who had determined not to join the retreat until he had 
made his mark upon the foe, dashed through the gap between 
the two separating bodies of the phalanx, and driving way to the 
rear without meeting much opposition (the second line being 
almost entirely absorbed in the combats on the flanks), succeeded 
in surprising and capturing the guards of the camp, liberating 
Persian prisoners and playing havoc among the supplies of 
Alexander. Engaged in plunder, they took no note of the 
rapid rally of a portion of the troops of the second line who now 
came tearing to the rescue of the camp, and in the struggle that 
followed a large number of the hostile cavalry were killed, the 
rest driven off southward and eastward again, not even stop- 
ping to assist their fellows in the desperate struggle going on 
between Mazseus and Parmenio. 

And now, although no succor had yet reached him from 



DESPERATE VALOR. 91 

Alexander, that sturdy old soldier had taken heart again on 
seeing the ruin and dismay of the Persian centre and left. The 
horsemen of Mazaeus were, on the other hand, as profoundly 
depressed, and the result was that, unsupported, the firm Thes- 
salian and allied Greek horse and light troops succeeded, after 
a mighty effort, in bursting through the myriad soldiery encom- 
passing them, and, sturdily charging ahead, drove them from 
the field. The whole army of Darius, led by the king in person, 
was now in ignominious flight. 

Returning from pursuit with his heavy cavalry and horse- 
guards, Alexander encountered several fine brigades of Persian 
horse seeking to retire from the field in dignified and soldierly 
manner. Cut off from retreat by his dispositions, they had no 
alternative but surrender or force their passage through, and 
chose the latter like men. Accustomed as they were mainly to 
missile-fighting, they were no match for the mail-clad pike and 
swordsmen of Macedon, and here again the losses of the 
Asiatics were very severe. They fought with desperate valor, 
killing no less than sixty of the Macedonian horse and wound- 
ing a much greater number, among them the generals Hephses- 
tion, Ccenus and Menidos, who had fought gallantly on the 
right earlier in the day. With the departure of those who suc- 
ceeded in cutting through, the last fighting foeman had left the 
field. The glorious battle of Arbela, the greatest and most de- 
cisive of his career, of his time, was won, and Alexander of 
Macedon had virtually conquered Asia. 

Accompanied now by Parmenio, he presses forward in vigor- 
ous pursuit. No time, no place must be given that routed army 
to make a stand. A vast portion of the Persian force had not 
been engaged at all, but stood huddled together in helpless con- 
fusion, and when the rout began only, as at Issus, swelled the 
panic. Large numbers were taken or hunted down and slain, 
especially at the bridge across the Zab, where for a time the 
chase was arrested, as both horses and men were greatly fatigued- 
but early on the morning of the following day Alexander again 
pushed on, entered Arbela only to find Darius gone, and the 
city, with immense treasure, with arms and equipage, together 



92 ARBELA. 

with the great camp, its supplies, its camels and elephants, all fell 
into the hands of the conqueror. 

Of the losses in this momentous conflict we have to decide be- 
tween accounts which vary widely. Arrian puts the Macedonian 
killed at only one hundred, and that of the Persians at three 
hundred thousand, which is incredible — on both sides. It is 
probable, however, that the loss of Alexander, in killed, did not 
exceed three or four hundred, though his wounded were far 
more numerous. As for the Persians, whatever may have been 
the actual loss in slain — and it must have been immense — the 
moral effect of the battle was as great as though the entire force 
had been put to the sword. The prodigious army was utterly 
ruined. It never rallied, it never could be reassembled. Arbela 
was the grave of the Persian empire. Babylon and Susa sur- 
rendered forthwith, and the conquerors marched in to the enjoy- 
ment of a spoil exceeding their wildest anticipations. Even the 
soldiery were enriched by the lavish distribution of captured gold. 

The causes of this great defeat may be briefly ascribed to the 
dastardly cowardice of Darius and the stolid uselessness of much 
of his force. It is estimated that not more than one-fourth of 
his army took any part in the affray, except as spectators, and 
when Darius did give any order, it was almost sure to be un- 
fortunate ; the detachment of his Baktrian division from the left 
centre, front line, for instance, was an incredible blunder. He 
had dozens of regiments of cavalry, equally reliable, in his re- 
serve line ; but he must needs open this fatal gap in his very 
centre, and the genius of Alexander drove therein the entering 
wedge that rent the army in twain. On the other hand, the 
skill, the promptitude, the masterly generalship of him of Mace- 
don shone forth in every combination and move, and the superb 
dash and bravery which prompted him to fight ever among the 
foremost troopers was in vehement contrast with the wretched 
break-down of the Persian monarch, the first to take refuge in 
cowardly flight. Treacherous as was the conduct of his satrap 
Bessus, in the near future, one can almost forgive him the cold- 
blooded slaughter of such an arrant dastard and poltroon as 
Oarius. 



EARLY DEATH OF ALEXANDER. 



93 



Two hundred years before, Persia was mistress of the Eastern 
world. Attempting to sweep over Europe, she was checked at 
Marathon, overthrown and driven back at Plataea and Salamis; 
then, little by little, sapped of her once prodigious strength. 
Three hundred and thirty-five years before Christ the little king- 
dom of Macedon marched eastward its armies to turn the tables 
on the would-be conquerors. At the Granicus its young king 
overrode a more numerous army than his own ; at Issus he ad- 
ministered an overwhelming defeat; at Arbela he became master 
of Asia. Had he lived he might have been monarch of the 
world; but, dying at Babylon in the midst of his triumphs, his 
great empire was divided up among his generals, and within less 
than a century in strife among their descendants the fruits of his 
conquests were consumed, and Macedonian sway in Asia died 
out forever. 




RATTEE-FIELD OF ARBELA. 



CANNJE. 



^^^ 




216 B. C. 

EANTIME, while Greece was occupied with 
her internal dissensions, two new powers were 
rising into prominence to the westward ; and 
north and south of the Mediterranean those 
great nations that soon were to contend for 
the control of western Europe, as Macedon 
and Persia had fought for the dominion of 
the East, Rome and Carthage, were, year by 
year, developing into sturdy and dominant 
states. Three centuries before Christ, while 
the great generals of Alexander were dividing among themselves 
the provinces won by their heroic chieftain, now lying in his 
grave, Sicily had risen to be a power on the Mediterranean. 
Syracuse, her great seaport, rivalled Tyre before its sack by Alex- 
ander, and Agathocles, tyrant of Syracuse, had waged war for 
years against the shores of northern Africa, and, invading Car- 
thage, had brought about great havoc and distress. But Car- 
thage rallied from the blow, and finally expelled her foeman, 
rebuilt her ships and shrines, and two hundred and seventy 
years before Christ had determined on a counter-stroke. Doubt- 
less she would have been successful in her projected assault, but 
the rival power that had now at last succeeded in mastering the 
whole Italian peninsula, from the Rubicon to the Straits of Mes- 
sina, claimed a prior right to the fertile and populous island at 
its foot, and Rome clashed with Carthage in a battle of the 
giants. 

Like Carthage, Rome, too, had risen from late humiliation 
and defeat. Samnium had driven her under the yoke after a 
capitulation that shamed the whole nation ; but in the indomit- 
(94) 



THE YOUNG COMMANDER. gg 

able will and patient, steadfast effort and endurance of the people, 
Rome had gone firmly onward and upward. Samnium was 
finally conquered, Etruria brought to terms, and the savage 
Gauls of the north defeated again and again. And now, to es- 
tablish her claim to Sicily, she found it necessary to war with 
Carthage, and in 264 b. c. the first Punic war, the first of those 
historical campaigns that are studded with names so brilliant in 
military history, broke forth upon the Mediterranean. Partly 
by sea, partly by land, for twenty-four years the fight went on, 
and then Carthage sued for peace. Sicily became a province of 
Rome. 

Then Carthage suffered at home from a new cause. The mer- 
cenaries she had brought back across the sea from Sicily re- 
volted and nearly destroyed her, and, profiting by those domestic 
troubles, Rome wrested from her prostrate rival the rich island 
of Sardinia. This intensified the bitterness of feeling already 
existing, and Hamilcar Barca, the valiant leader of Carthage, re- 
solved upon invading and conquering Spain, and from there re- 
newing at some future time the struggle with Rome. The revolt 
being crushed at home, he speedily put this project into execu- 
tion, taking with him a beloved son, a mere boy at the time ; and 
thus in Spain, Hannibal, the one soldier of those years whose 
achievements vie with those of Alexander, learned his early les- 
sons in the art of war ; and, like Alexander, when in the first flush 
of manhood, only twenty-six years of age, he found himself chief- 
in-command of the armies of his nation, 221 years before Christ 
— one century after the conqueror of the East had met his fate 
at Babylon. 

Hannibal's first martial achievement was the attack and cap- 
ture of Saguntum on the Ebro, an ally of Rome; and, quick to 
take offence, Rome declared and opened the second Punic war. 
At this time it was in the power of Rome to put into the field 
a force of seven hundred thousand foot and seventy thousand 
horse. She had for five or cix years been waging spirited war 
with the Cisalpine Gauls and had conquered their country along 
the Po, forming the colonies of Cremona and Placentia, which 
were soon to play so important a part in the grand struggle now 



96 CANNAE. 

fairly entered upon. Against her Carthage could muster nowhere 
near so large a disciplined force, but her ranks were filled with 
soldiers admirably equipped for war, and her Spanish infantry 
and her own footmen were as reliable as those of Rome. The 
general appearance of a Carthaginian army must have been 
motley in the last degree ; for the most opposite nations, from re- 
gions the most remote from one another, were crowded into her 
service. Mobs of half-naked Cauls marched side by side with 
disciplined Iberians, clothed in their scarlet-trimmed coats of 
glistening white linen. Carthaginians, native, and Africans 
from all along the northern coasts, were mustered with the 
savage allies from Liguria. Stone-slingers from the Balearic 
isles covered their advancing front, and while, under the vehe- 
ment administration of Hamilcar and his brother, and the great 
son who succeeded hini, the cavalry of Carthage rose to rank as 
the most powerful and efficient the world had yet seen, there 
rode on their flanks, ready for any emergency, wild bands of 
light horsemen on the fleetest chargers. These were the savage 
warriors of the Numidian deserts, men who rode like centaurs, 
scorning saddle or bridle. Of these undisciplined but invaluable 
light troops Carthage had myriads, and in strange contrast with 
their agile dash and scurry were the ponderous movements of 
the great war-elephants driven by skilled negroes. The Spanish 
infantry were protected by massive shield and helmet, and bore 
as weapons only the short, sharp, two-edged, weighty sword, 
with which they did terrible execution at close quarters and 
which weapon Rome had before this learned to respect, to adopt 
and to use. The African linesmen bore at first only a light 
shield and long spear. The Gauls carried long javelins and 
huge broadswords, and there were scores of allies who served as 
archers and dartmen. Deficient as Hasdrubal had been in the 
numbers of his cavalry, Hannibal had too great respect for the 
arm to move without a strong force of horsemen, and of these 
we shall hear later. 

Once assured of the capture of Saguntum by Hannibal, Rome 
sent envoys to Carthage demanding that he and his principal 
generals be surrendered to their nation for this attack upon her 



THE GIANT OF HIS CENTURY. 97 

ally. A war of words ensued, and a dramatic scene in council, 
where Fabius, the Roman envoy, swung loose his toga in the 
face of the dignitaries of Carthage, exclaiming : " Then here we 
give you war ! " and news of the declaration was speedily con- 
veyed to Hannibal in Spain. He was thirsting for it. He had 
vowed eternal vengeance against Rome. Already he was the 
master spirit of Carthage, as he speedily became the great cen- 
tral figure of his time. With Rome, consul after consul might 
fall in defeat ; legion after legion suffer annihilation, but still the 
people and their indomitable senate rose superior to all disaster. 
No one man could represent Rome. Even Scipio, he who car- 
ried the war into Africa in after days, was but a son of Rome : 
a servant of her senate, the elect of her people ; but Hannibal was 
the giant of his century. Hannibal was Carthage, and for a time 
we shall see how the almost superhuman energy and will of 
this one great soldier ruled one nation and well-nigh ruined 
another. 

His great opportunity lay now before him. Quickly he sum- 
mons from Africa, under his own brother, Hasdrubal, all the 
native troops left in Carthage; sends to replace them sturdy gar- 
risons from Spain, and then at New Carthage marshals his army, 
announces to them his long-cherished purpose, the invasion of 
Italy, and with 90,000 foot, 1 2,000 horse and a number of war- 
elephants, he marches northward. The reduction of the tribes 
between the Iberus and the Pyrenees detains him less time than 
Rome had expected, but costs him many men, whom he is 
forced to leave behind as garrisons or lost in action. He bursts 
through into France with but 50,000 foot and 9,000 horse, but 
the celerity of his move is such that Rome, springing forward 
with her fleet to the mouth of the Rhone and disembarking Scipio 
(P. Cornelius) with his army to meet the invader, finds to her 
dismay that Hannibal has already gone on his way up that broad 
valley. No use to follow. The tribes are hostile, the country 
unknown. Hannibal has a commanding lead and probably 
cannot be overtaken. Scipio hurries back to Italy to organize 
a force to meet him as he issues from the defiles of the Alps, 
but, by a master-stroke of genius, sends his army on to Spain, 
7 



98 



cann^e. 



there to hamper and break up the power of Carthage ; to destroy 
her influence, and eventually to rob Carthage of the Spanish 
forces that might have made her invincible when herself invaded. 
Publius Cornelius Scipio was laying the foundation for his son's 
superb victory at Zama. 

Meantime, through the dry heat of September, Hannibal was 
striding up the valley into the heart of France. The crossing of 
the Rhone was difficult, dangerous, contested by hostile tribes 
on the eastern shore, but science had carried him over, even his 
unwieldy elephants ; and now he begins that marvellous passage 
of the Alps that has won the admiration of all soldiers to this 
day. Only a narrow, tortuous, treacherous mountain trail leads 
across the great barrier, and swarms of savage natives hang over 
the precipices with rock and boulder to dash upon the climbing 
column below. It is the slow work of weeks. He ascends the 
valley of the Isere and finds himself under the Little St. Bernard, 
with Mont Blanc towering off to the left, on the ninth day after 
leaving the plains of France. It is the end of October now ; 
snow is deep on those lofty summits ; great suffering and hard- 
ships have been endured by all. His starving elephants are well- 
nigh exhausted, and he had only thirty-seven on crossing the 
Rhone. Hundreds of his Numidian cavalry, accustomed only 
to the sands of the desert, have perished from cold ; hundreds 
have been hurled down the yawning gulfs below or crushed by 
the rocks tumbled from above. All are weakened and wavering 
— all but Hannibal. His energy, spirit, ardor never desert him. 
He calls them together, worn and haggard as they are, and 
strives to inspire them with his own buoyant hope. He points 
eagerly to the valley far below to the southeast. " That valley 
is Italy," he says, " and there, but a few days' march away, shall 
we find corn and wine and oil. Beyond it, rested, strengthened, 
reinforced by the Gauls already eager to join with us against 
their hated foe, we shall find the road to Rome." Two days 
of rest and then the descent begins. It is even more difficult 
than the climb from France. In many places the road is gone 
entirely, but he urges on his army, and at last in triumph leads 
them forth upon the level watered by the Doria Baltea, and 



THE FIRST ENCOUNTERS. 99 

out upon the bright, broad valley of the Po. But in that adven- 
turous march from the Pyrenees to the Po he has lost 33,000 
men. He has but 20,000 infantry and 6,000 cavalry left him, 
and men, horses and the remaining elephants are well-nigh 
exhausted. Yet with this little force he dares continue. 

Meantime Scipio had crossed the Apennines, assumed com- 
mand of the Roman forces, and moved rapidly forward by way 
of Placentia. Both generals were eager for action. The armies 
met near the Ticino, and in a sharp and decisive conflict the 
Numidians and heavy cavalry of Carthage overthrew the horse- 
men of Rome and scored a victory for Hannibal. Scipio fell 
back, amazed and discomfited, and took refuge under the walls 
of Placentia. Hannibal followed, passing by, and, throwing his 
army across the Roman line of communication with Ariminum, 
strove to taunt him to another battle. Meantime heavy rein- 
forcements were hurrying forward to Placentia under the other 
consul, Sempronius. They joined Scipio on the Trebia, a little 
stream flowing from the southward into the Po, west of Placentia, 
and here, with 40,000 men, Sempronius (who found himself in 
command owing to the severity of the wound received by his 
colleague at the Ticino) conceived himself strong enough to 
attack Hannibal in camp. It was midwinter ; the stream was 
full to the banks ; snow, sleet and hail were threatening, but 
Sempronius led his men, cold and without breakfast, through 
the icy stream and deployed his lines in front of the Cartha- 
ginians, who, with calm deliberation, had eaten their morning 
meal, oiled their bodies and donned their armor around the blaz- 
ing fires, and then marched out to meet the Romans. Near the 
Trebia lay secreted a small body of picked men, mainly cavalry, 
in a depression that had escaped the vigilance of the Romans as 
they advanced in the dim light of early morning. Mago, a 
younger brother of Hannibal, commanded. The Roman light 
troops had early opened with dart and arrow on the opposing 
lines, and been received by the slingers of the Balearic isles; but 
when the massive infantry of the legion swept forward to the 
assault of the outnumbered centre the day looked dark for Car- 
thage, until, with furious rush and shout, the horsemen of Mazo's 



100 canNjE. 

ambuscade burst forth and hewed down the Roman rear. Then 
Hannibal drove his elephants in on the flanks, followed up vig- 
orously with the light infantry and ubiquitous Numidians ; the 
Roman light troops broke and scattered in confusion, rushing 
back towards the Trebia, while the legions in the centre, finding 
themselves vehemently charged in rear, forced through the lines 
in their front and marched off with little opposition to Placentia. 
The consular army was cut in two. Those who went eastward 
escaped, but those who ran back toward the Trebia were slaugh- 
tered without mercy. Despite his own losses in action and from 
cold (the last-named cause having robbed him of most of his 
elephants), Hannibal had won a great victory, the battle of the 
Trebia. 

The consular armies of Rome despaired of holding the valley 
of the Po. Scipio fell back with what he had left to Ariminum 
on the Adriatic. Sempronius crossed his army through the 
Apennines into Etruria, and all Cisalpine Gaul was in the hands 
of " the dire African." Thus ended his first campaign in Italy. 

The consuls having failed them, the Roman people chose 
Flaminius and Servilius in their stead. New levies of troops 
were made at once. Scipio went to Spain as pro-consul to take 
charge of matters there ; large reinforcements being sent with 
him, as well as to Sardinia, Sicily, Tarentum and the armies of 
the new consuls in the north. Humiliated and saddened by de- 
feat the great heart of Rome was constant in its faith in ultimate 
success. 

Early in the spring Hannibal astonished the outposts of 
Flaminius by appearing through an unused pass of the Apen- 
nines, and plundering the valley of the Arno. Having devastated 
the Arno country, Hannibal pushed southward, passed by Fla- 
minius without paying him any attention, and went on his leisurely 
way, plundering everywhere, and the cry went up for Flaminius 
to act. 

Spurred into motion, the consul came on after the Carthagin- 
ian, caught him close by Lake Thrasymene, and there, in the 
dense mist and obscurity of a marshy defile and an early morn- 
ing of an Italian spring, Hannibal turned fiercely, savagely, upon 



HEAVY LOSS OF THE ROMANS. 101 

his rash pursuer, and after a terrible onslaught and a resistance 
of brief duration, caught as they were between overhanging 
heights and the shallow waters of the lake, the Romans were 
almost utterly destroyed, and the solemn disaster of Thrasymene 
was added to that of Trebia. Only six thousand of the soldiery 
of Latium escaped. 

Occurring, as this noted battle did, so much nearer home, the 
effect upon the citizens of Rome was far greater than that of 
Trebia ; indeed, it was a far greater catastrophe, not particularly 
because of the death of Flaminius, who fell, sword in hand, since 
his administration of affairs in Etruria had been far from happy, 
but rather because of the heavy losses sustained at so desperate 
a crisis. It is asserted with good reason that the number of men 
lost by the Romans on the day of Thrasymene and during the 
vigorous pursuit which followed was fully 30,000, while Hannibal 
had lost but 1,500 all told. 

Freeing the Italian allies of Rome who had fallen into his 
hands, the victor gave his men a few days' needed rest, then 
crossed the Tiber near its source, and marched into Umbria. 
And then venturing no farther towards Rome itself with his 
small force, preferring to lay waste all Italy, all that might be 
tributary to Rome before dealing with the great city itself, he 
turned abruptly eastward, crossed again the Apennines, reached 
the Adriatic near Ancona, and swept down the coast. Now, in- 
deed, were his promises to the soldiery fully realized. It was a 
land of plenty through which they leisurely marched, camping 
in pleasant places, pillaging, plundering, ravaging everywhere. 
The rough linesmen lived on the fat of the land, faring as they 
never did before. But, everywhere he went, rigorous search was 
made, and wherever Romans or Latins were found, capable of 
bearing arms, they were ruthlessly butchered. 

Yet again Rome rallied. The Senate for day after day sat from 
sunrise to sunset, devising measures for the relief of the beloved 
fatherland. No one spoke of peace. No soldier was to be re- 
called from possible victory in Spain, Sicily or Sardinia, but 
sterner measures were resolved on at home, and Fabius Maximus 
was made dictator. Two new legions were raised in the city, and 



102 CANN.E. 

a number of the home-guards proper were ordered for other ser- 
vice. Even the navy was recruited from Rome, for now the Car- 
thaginian ships were scouring the Adriatic, and, on the west 
coast, capturing the fleets of supply-vessels sent to Spain and 
Sardinia. 

All the ships at Ostia and from the Tiber were ordered forth- 
with to sea, and then with the two new legions and the consular 
army of Servilius (which had fallen back from Ariminum after 
learning of Thrasymene), with powerful horse and numbers of 
allies — in all with a force largely outnumbering Hannibal — the 
dictator marched southeastward through Campania and Sam- 
nium, and crossed the Apennines in search of the African. 

And now for a time the advantage lay with Rome. The Car- 
thaginians were living on the country, compelled to scatter and 
forage. The Romans were enabled to keep together in mass, as 
their supplies were forwarded direct in bulk, and, at the same 
time, they harassed and broke up the detachments of the Afri- 
cans scouring the neighborhood for provisions. Hannibal had 
well-nigh exhausted this tract of Apulia by the time the Roman 
army marched in and camped near him, and finding that the 
Apulians would not join him, he decided to again cross the 
mountains and sweep down into the hitherto undisturbed regions 
of the Caudinian Samnites, old enemies of Rome. But Beneven- 
tum shut her gates against him. Thence he moved up the river 
Vulturnus, crossing it finally, and came down into the far-famed 
Falernian plain in Campania. 

This was almost more than even Roman discipline could 
stand. Fabius the dictator had kept his men on the track of 
Hannibal, but prohibiting a general engagement. He planted 
strong garrisons in all the roads and passes around the plain, 
rightly conjecturing that Hannibal would soon exhaust even the 
wealth of store in that productive region, and then, hemmed in 
as he now was, unable to obtain further supplies to carry him 
through the approaching winter, he would be compelled to sue 
for peace or strive to fight his way through the chosen positions 
of the Romans. 

But Hannibal had no thought either of wintering there or 



HANNIBAL'S STRANGE ESCAPE. 1Q3 

starving elsewhere. He had accumulated great supplies of food 
and wine, several thousand head of beef cattle, and some 5,000 
prisoners in the course of his recent wanderings, and he proposed 
to move back to Apulia and take all his supplies with him, 
despite Roman hindrance. He had nowhere near enough men 
to fight his way through, and guard and transport the provision 
train and prisoners at one and the same time. Hannibal first put 
his 5,000 prisoners to death, and then set about clearing the way 
for a march through the defiles over into the upper valley of the 
Vulturnus. Fabius, with his main army, lay along the lower 
hills between the defiles, with strong outposts in the passes 
themselves. 

Selecting 2,000 of the strongest of his captured cattle, Hanni- 
bal caused a quantity of pine light-wood to be fastened to their 
horns ; notified his army to be ready to move soon as darkness 
set in, and then, despatching his light infantry with the drovers 
and ordering them to scale the heights behind and overlooking 
the passes, he started the cattle for the hills, and, as soon as they 
reached the slopes, caused the tinder-wood on their heads to be 
set on fire. The cattle speedily ran wild and charged up the 
slopes in front, the light infantry followed, and presently the 
range of hills was lighted up by a strange, unearthly glare from 
the darting fires on these hundreds of stampeding cattle. Be- 
wildered, unable to comprehend its meaning, fearful of being led 
out into some trap of the vile African, as Flaminius and his 
thousands had been trapped at Thrasymene, Fabius dare 
not move from camp till morning dawned. Meantime, the 
guards of the passes, convinced that the whole army of Hanni- 
bal was scattering over the hills in attempt to escape, quitted 
their assigned positions and clambered up the heights to head 
them off, and were aghast to find only wild cattle and some few 
skirmishers ; but when they attempted to return to their posts, 
they found these few skirmishers multiplied by hundreds, who 
hemmed them in and prevented their retirement, and Hannibal, 
relying on the success of the trick, hastened forward, seized the 
defiles, passed his heavy infantry, cavalry and baggage and 
plunder safely through, detailed the Spaniards and the Gauls tcr 



104 cann^:. 

cover his rear and assist the light troops, and, when daylight ap- 
peared, to the shame and consternation of the Roman dictator, 
it was apparent to all that " the dire African " had again out- 
witted him. It was now impossible to pen him in again, and Han- 
nibal, after visiting and plundering portions of Samnium to the 
north, leisurely, as before, crossed for the fourth time the Ap- 
penines and came down on the eastern slope into the rich Pelig- 
nian plain near Sulmo (not more than ninety miles on a " bee- 
line " east of Rome), and towards the end of the season was 
comfortably settled again near his old quarters in Apulia. 

Seizing the little town of Geronium, he established his maga- 
zines within the walls and camped his army around it. Here, 
with corn, grass and water in abundance, his horses and cattle 
were well provided for, and supplies in plenty were already 
gathered and stored for his men. Without allies he could not 
conquer Rome, but, could he successfully maintain himself on 
Roman territory, allies would be sure to join him sooner or later. 

And now Rome had raised a clamor against its dictator. 
Fabius was slow, over-cautious, timid. The Fabian policy had 
been not to make a move until the right one could be de- 
termined on as sure of success, and then the Fabian execution 
had been the wrong one. That winter, as custom required, both 
dictator and " master of the horse " Minucius resigned, and the 
army was placed again under the consuls — Servilius, who thus 
reappears, and Regulus (M. Atilius), who had been elected vice 
Flaminius killed at Thrasymene. Then came the spring elec- 
tions, unusually bitter party spirit running at the time, and the 
choice of the people for first consul proved to be a veritable 
butcher-boy, who had been enabled by a fortune left him un- 
expectedly to quit the shambles and go into politics, and Caius 
Terentius Varro, who had risen step by step from small offices, 
as of- a ward politician to those of praetor, now by voice of 
Rome became her general-in-chief. As his colleague reappears 
^Emilius Paullus, a vehement aristocrat, who but a short time 
before had held office as consul, was accused of peculation, and 
was as detestable to the general public as Varro was popular. 
But Paullus had proved himself a good soldier. 



"THE DIRE AFRICAN." 105 

For a time Servilius and Regulus retained command of the 
" armies of observation " in Apulia, where, watching the move- 
ments of Hannibal like wary mastiffs, but keeping out of reach 
of his claws, they established a large magazine of supplies at the 
little town of Cannae, some sixty or seventy (Roman) miles 
southeast of the camp of Hannibal. 

One bright morning in early summer, as the corn was rapidly 
ripening along the lowlands and the Roman army was still doz- 
ing in its winter camp, " the dire African " sprang from his lair, 
leaped over or around the stupefied watchers, and possessed him- 
self of Cannae. There is something absolutely electric about 
this superb dash. No matter where one's sympathies may lie, 
the reader can hardly refuse his admiration of such brilliant, 
daring and successful generalship. His own provisions were 
giving out. It was still cold and raw up there near the moun- 
tains. Down by the sea lay sunny Cannae with all those accu- 
mulations of military stores piled tier on tier ; with all those 
countless acres of corn ready for the harvest — and for him. 
Sudden as the spring of the lion of his forests, the African hero 
drops upon the plain below him, swings round the flank of his 
lazy, unsuspecting watchers, grasps the prey they were supposed 
to guard ; then, with bristling mane and flashing eyes and teeth, 
confronts them as, crouching for another spring, he warns them, 
" Come not here." Rome is checked again. 

And now, speeding with new legions and levies, the consuls 
haste to the front. " Hold him there," are the orders breath- 
lessly despatched to wretched Regulus and his colleague ; " hold, 
but risk no battle ; wait for Varro." And now, in the blithe sum- 
mer weather, under the soft breezes of the Adriatic, two hating, 
hostile armies are drawn up across the plain of Apulia. Those 
grim, wiry, half-savage men in battered armor and time-worn 
garb — those daring, reckless fellows on the keen Spanish and 
Arabian steeds, facing north — are the soldiers of Carthage. 

Those eight brilliant legions, far outnumbering them, glitter- 
ing in all the glory of brazen helmets, breast-plate, greaves and 
shield, their martial plumes of black and scarlet, their golden 
eagles, their blazoned standards flashing in the sun — these, facing 



10(5 CANN.E. 

southward, are the troops of Rome. Only slightly reinforced 
by accessions from the Gauls, Hannibal, with not more than 
50,000 men, must hold his own against 90,000 or die. But 
other odds are in his favor. Throughout his armies — African, 
Spaniard, savage Gaul — all have learned to look up to him as 
invincible ; a leader under whom defeat or disaster would be impos- 
sible. His command is absolute, undivided. On the other hand, 
Rome sends two leaders, men who, like the generals of Athens 
in the days of Miltiades, could only command one day at a 
time. One is Varro, the hero of the lower classes, a political 
figure-head of the masses, a demagogue and a stump-speaker of 
no little shrewdness and ability in his peculiar line, but unfit to 
handle an army in the field. As his colleague he has an ad- 
mirable but most unpopular soldier — an aristocrat throughout, 
and an experienced campaigner. The two were violently an- 
tagonistic from the start — in character, in methods, in plans. 
They were harmonious in only one point, an undoubted and 
unflinching patriotism. They found the army of Hannibal 
placidly occupied in gathering in the rich harvest of the low 
country along the sea, the main body posted on the left bank 
of the Aufidus, not more than eight or nine miles from the 
Adriatic. All around them the land lay level and open, a capital 
battle-field for armies equally matched. Too good a field for 
Hannibal, said Paullus ; far too good for the superb cavalry of 
Carthage, whose chief, Maharbal, was the most skillful and 
daring cavalry leader in the annals of ancient history ; and under 
him were such young generals as Mago, own brother to Han- 
nibal, he who led the furious flank attack and decided the day 
at the Trebia. Well indeed might Paullus preach caution and 
urge a falling back to the foothills, where the African cavalry 
would be far less efficient over broken and hilly ground, but 
Varro was frantic for instant fight and would listen to no such 
counsel. It being his day in command, he marched the army 
rapidly and boldly into a position below Hannibal on the Aufidus, 
interposing between him and the sea, and there he halted and 
faced to the southeast, his left resting on the river, his right ex- 
tending over to the town of Salapia. Paullus was compelled to 



HANNIBAL'S PREPARATIONS. 10Y 

submit, and when, on the following day, he assumed command 
he found it impossible to extricate the army from the trap into 
which Varro had led it. Hannibal had promptly moved down 
stream (the Aufidus here flows northeast, or, to be more ac- 
curate, east of north), and, with his right resting on the river 
bank, took position confronting the army of Rome. A portion 
of the force of Paullus was immediately thrown across the stream 
and encamped on the right bank with the view of checking the 
advance of Hannibal in that direction, should he attempt such 
a move, and of driving back his foraging parties gathering the 
spoils of the corn-fields on the southern plain. 

On the morning of the next day, which strictly was about 
the middle of June, Varro again came into command. He was 
feverishly impatient for battle, and had determined to bring 
matters to an issue at once. To his perplexity, however, he 
saw that Hannibal had made no move to meet him. The Cartha- 
ginians hung to their lines ; busy preparations of some kind were 
going on within the camp, but the day passed by without a re- 
sponsive move on the part of Hannibal. Varro could not induce 
him to come out and meet him, nor did he dare attack him in 
camp itself. 

But Hannibal had spent the day in quiet, methodical prepara- 
tions for the coming conflict and in a close study of the opposing 
lines, and with the dawn of the next day (August 2d of the 
Roman calendar) he marched forth upon the plain ready to do 
battle with Rome. And now Rome held back. ^Emilius Paul- 
lus was chief for the day and could not be dragged into a fight. 
He held that if the armies remained a few days longer as they 
stood the Carthaginians would be compelled to fall back to- 
wards the mountains in search of more corn and supplies. 
Then his project of fighting in the foothills and avoiding con- 
flict with the terrible African cavalry could be carried out. 
Despite the eager, impatient murmurs of many subordinates, and 
the taunts of Varro, yEmilius remained unmoved. He would 
not risk the issue on such ground even though he doubly out- 
numbered Hannibal. The latter waited some time, then seeing 
plainly enough that he had a very different man to deal with, 



108 CANNAE. 

nent his infantry back into camp and despatched Maharbal with 
a strong force of cavalry to assail the Roman troops on the right 
bank. The Aufidus is shallow in June and easily fordable, and 
the wild Numidian horse swept down on the water parties of 
the Romans, penned them up in their camp, and held the ground 
so that all the rest of the day, all the long, hot night that fol- 
lowed, the unfortunate Romans on the eastern shore thirsted 
for water and could not get a drop. But on the morrow Varro once 
more would draw his sword, and then, come what might, there 
would be an end to this senseless delay. And surely enough 
at dawn the red ensign, the well-known signal for battle, was 
flung to the breeze from the tent of the champion of the de- 
mocracy. 

And now before the opposing armies meet in battle let us 
take a careful look at the ground on which this never-to-be-for- 
gotten scene is to be enacted. By the Roman calendar it was 
the 3d day of August. Actually, however, it was about the 20th 
of June, the sixth month of the modern year. The corn was 
ripe in all the fields along the lowlands, and most of it had been 
gathered in by the foragers of Carthage. The shallow, sluggish 
Aufidus flows placidly along between the level fields, lazily 
winding toward the sea. Far off to the eastward the blue waves 
of the Adriatic sparkle and flash in the early light, and white- 
caps dot the billows under the influence of the strong southerly 
breeze that springs up with the rising sun. Far off to the west 
the spurs of the Apennines are looking down upon the fertile 
plains below. Here in the near distance, well out to the right 
bank of the stream, are the roofs and walls of Cannae. Four or 
five miles away to the southwest, also east of the Aufidus, is the 
walled town of Canusium, still loyal to Rome; and far away north- 
ward, on the left of the river, the early sun is gilding the battle- 
ments of Salapia. 

There rests the right flank of Rome. Between it and the 
Aufidus the legions are tramping out upon the plains in front and 
forming line under cover of the clouds of light troops who ad- 
vance before them. Over on the right bank the Numidian 
horsemen of Hannibal are still hovering between the water and 



VARRO IN COMMAND. jQg 

the detached camp of the Roman left, and the main army of 
Carthage, forming with the calm precision of veteran soldiery, 
is moving forward from its tents so as to deploy upon the open 
plain. Varro, the political appointee, with 90,000 valiant men 
at his back, is to try conclusions with the trained soldier Han- 
nibal, who leads but 50,000 all told, and Varro takes the initia- 
tive. Before anything can be done those men of his, thirsting 
over there on the extreme left, must be relieved and their assail- 
ants driven off. Detailing a strong force to hold his camp on 
the west bank, Varro orders his army to face to the left, cross 
the Aufidus, drive off the Numidians, supply those suffering 
kinsmen in the beleaguered camp with water, then face to the 
front again and be ready for Hannibal. In some surprise, the 
latter notes the move. To fight he must follow. To cross in- 
volves the placing of his entire army on an open plain, thrusting 
his right well out " in the air," as it is termed, with no defence, 
natural or improvised, on which to rest it, with an outnumbering 
army on his front, a hostile town in and near his rear. It is not 
a safe move, but he looks at his stern, battle-seasoned infantry, 
greatly inferior in numbers to the brilliant legions of Rome ; he 
carefully studies his eager cavalry — there at least he can afford 
to be confident, for the world cannot match them, and the plain 
on the right bank is to the full as open, as favorable as on the 
left. East or west, then, it is all the same. Hannibal lauehs 
with hope and triumph and thrilling confidence, as he too faces 
his men eastward, fords the Aufidus in cheery order, marches 
well out on the eastern plain, then halts and confronts the shout- 
ing, spear-brandishing, shield-clanging army of Rome. At last 
in open conflict, in fair field, where neither surprise, nor deep 
defile, nor treacherous morass can aid him, he means to meet, 
and he means to overthrow the surging power of the great rival 
of his country. 

Each army is formed practically on the same general plan. 
Infantry in the centre ; cavalry on the flanks ; but, in detail, there 
is this important difference : Varro has so formed his legions that 
though far outnumbering the force of Hannibal his line is no 
greater in extent. The right flank of the Carthaginians is far 



110 cann^;. 

out there on the open plain, and with his great superiority in 
numbers Varro ought by every principle to overlap that ex- 
posed flank, but it does not seem to occur to him. A breach 
has widened between himself and Paullus, and, if the latter sug- 
gests that such a disposition should be made, it is more than 
probable he is impatiently rebuked for officious interference. 
Whether counselled or not, Varro utterly fails to avail himself 
of the advantage thus opened to him. He forms his lines in 
what would now be termed columns of masses ; the front of 
each subdivision of the legion is less than its depth. It would 
seem as though he had resolved on a formation akin to that of 
Epaminondas — a deep charging column, and with it an impetu- 
ous assault on the Carthaginian centre, before which every- 
thing must go down. But it never seems to have occurred 
to him that, notwithstanding his vastly inferior force, Hannibal 
would take the initiative and himself become the attacking 
general. 

With much pomp and martial clangor the army of Rome had 
dressed its lines. On the extreme right, next the river, were the 
picked cavalry of the army, the knights and gentlemen of the 
city. Few in number, comparatively speaking, they represented 
the best blood of the republic and could be relied upon to fight 
to the death. Immediately on their left were drawn up the 
grand legions, stretching far across the plain, their battalions 
formed with diminished front but extending to a great depth to 
the rear. In the full panoply of Rome's sturdiest soldiery, they 
presented an appearance well calculated to inspire their dema- 
gogue of a leader with confidence. On their left were extended 
the battalions of light infantry of the allies, and then farthest out 
of all were the cavalry of the Italian provinces, notably of Latium. 
But these last were facing the most accomplished light horse- 
men of the world, the Numidians. Well out in front of the 
entire infantry command were ranged strong lines of skirmishers 
from the velites, and between these and the Balearic slingers of 
Hannibal the battle had already begun. No sooner were the 
men of Carthage well across the stream than the impatient Varro 
ordered out his skirmishers ; the Balearic slingers sprang forth 



^MILIUS PAULLUS WOUNDED. 



Ill 



from the opposing lines, and, under cover of their movements, the 
army of Africa takes up its station. 

Far out on the Carthaginian right are the sw&rxing hosts of 
Numidia. They are at least equal in number to the cavalry 
who stand opposed to them, but not so perfect in armor or 
equipment. Their superiority lies in their steeds and their horse- 
manship. Between the Numidians, drawn up under the watchful 
eye of their renowned leader Maharbal, and the cavalry of the 
left wing the infantry forms its lines. An odd disposition it 
seems at first glance. The centre of the foot force is occupied 
by alternating battalions of Spaniards and Gauls, and this centre 
is thrown well forward. The right and left centres are filled by 
the African infantry, armed precisely like that of Rome, and they 
are withdrawn slightly so that the front of Hannibal is convex 
toward the enemy, and on its extreme left, between the Africans 
and the river, confronting the nobles of Rome, the squadrons 
of Spanish and Gaulish horse are formed under command of 
Hasdrubal. Throughout the entire Carthaginian line there is 
jesting and laughter and easy confidence, for Hannibal has been 
laughingly rallying one of his generals, a "croaker," who shook 
his head dolefully at sight of the overpowering force of Rome. 

Already the skirmishers have begun. There is something 
terrible in the force and vim and accuracy with which those 
Balearic slingers whirl their missiles in among the velites. The 
latter are at a great disadvantage ; their darts are no answer at 
all, and they dare not risk a charge for fear of getting too far 
from their supports. The heavy stones come crashing in from 
the south with frightful force and precision, tumbling them over 
in every direction, To add to the trouble the morning breeze 
has increased to a stiff gale, and is blowing clouds of dust from 
the Carthaginian lines into the faces of the Romans. They are 
stung and blinded with the dust ; bruised, hammered, felled to 
earth by shooting stones : stones that penetrate far beyond and 
rattle like ponderous hail upon the armor of the main line. One 
of the first to fall, stunned and severely wounded, is the consul 
/Emilius himself, and, bad augury for Rome, the soldier of the 
two commanders is temporarily borne away from the fight. 



] 1 2 CANN^. 

Varro is left to his own devices. Rome cannot long stand this 
long-range fire which she has no means of answering ; but be- 
fore Varro can decide what to do, with terrific rush and impetus, 
Hasdrubal hurls forward the horsemen of Spain and Gaul, and 
in an instant they are crashing in upon the valiant knights of 
Rome. Doubtless the leader of the latter was quick to move 
forward to meet them, to gain impetus equal to their own, else 
he was no cavalryman, for mounted troops must never receive a 
charge at halt. Certain it is that for some time the Roman 
right sturdily holds its own, the knights doing valiant battle. 
But they have no defensive armor; their spears are light and in- 
efficient; even in number they are inferior to Hasdrubal, and 
Varro has no cavalry on that flank with which to reinforce them. 
Little by little, they are borne back ; still fighting bravely, are 
overpowered, and, presently, fairly driven from the field and 
sent whirling down the banks of the Aufidus. The surviving 
knights are fleeing for their lives, and all the serried cavalry of 
Spain is in hot pursuit. The right of the Roman line is swept 
away. 

Meantime, far over to the other flank, the Numidians had en- 
gaged the cavalry of Latium and the provinces, and here stout 
resistance is encountered. Maharbal, having only lightly 
equipped light horsemen, cannot make headway against the 
determined ranks of Italy, and the battle there is by no means 
going in favor of the Carthaginians, when, to the dismay of the 
Romans, a compact and admirably handled force of cavalry is 
seen riding up from their right rear. It is the division of Has- 
drubal returning from victorious pursuit, and about to plunge in 
to the aid of Numidia. These latter horsemen redouble the 
energy of their wild charge as they see the approach of comrade 
cavalry ; and, caught between two opposing forces, the horse- 
men of Latium scatter over the plain in headlong flight toward 
the sea. The Roman left is gone. All the cavalry of Varro is 
vanquished. 

But here still is his infantry, alone sufficient to outnumber the 
total horse and foot of Hannibal. Here are the legions, fresh, 
impatient, valorous. He has held them inactive a while, watch- 



THE ROMANS DEMORALIZED. jjg 

ing, with manifest stupefaction, the discomfiture of his horse- 
men. But now the lines of Hannibal advance. The centre is 
fairly bulging out far to the front. Varro orders the legions 
directly in front of the ranks of Spanish and Gaulish infantry to 
charge squarely forward, while those to the right and left in- 
cline inwards, converging, crushing in the Carthaginian centre. 
With all his might he speeds them on, and with mighty shock 
the legions of Rome close in combat with a disciplined but in- 
ferior foe, and, utterly unable to make a stand against such 
immense masses as those charging columns of Varro, the ranks 
of Spain and Gaul, confusedly intermingled, fall slowly back. 
The great wedge of the legions bursts through the Carthaginian 
centre, and presently, in triumphant rush, the plumed helmets 
are hewing their way, a black and scarlet and brazen torrent, 
squarely through the solid ranks and back upon the supports 
and reserves. Rome wins in the centre. 

But, converging as are the legions on these advanced foot- 
men in the centre, they now crowd, jostle and hamper one an- 
other ; the free fighting space of the soldier is filled up ; the 
legions on the flanks of the charge have jammed in those in the 
interior. Men can no longer hurl the pilum or brandish the 
sword ; their shields are entangled, they trip over one another, 
and their freedom of movement is utterly gone. Worse than 
that : they have rushed together to pierce the projecting centre 
of Carthage without a thought of the troops on their own flanks, 
and now, though they have forced their victorious way through, 
and well to the rear of the African line, just what happened to 
the Sacae and Persians at Marathon befalls them. They are 
overlapped, right and left, by the African infantry. Their front 
is still struggling with the Spaniards, but their flanks are open, 
and now these sturdy spearmen of Carthage face inwards, and 
down they come. The legions of Rome are hemmed in on 
three sides. 

And now from south, from east and west the barbed lines of 
spearmen close with fresh vigor upon the huddled mass of 
legionaries. Brave, devoted, heroic as are those trained war- 
riors, they have been horribly misled, they are penned like 



114 CANN^, 

dumb driven cattle where only those on the outskirts can battle 
at all. Thousands of stalwart, valiant men are crushed together 
in a struggling mass, unable to extricate themselves, unable to 
fight, unable to fall back and reform for another attack. In all 
the din and uproar, in all the fearful confusion that ensues, the 
orders of officers are unheard or unheeded. The corn-fields of 
Apulia are trodden down and beaten into dust by the dense 
mob of helpless humanity, rapidly being trodden under foot in 
its turn. The legions of Rome are being ground into powder. 
Farther and farther along their heaving flanks lap the lines of 
Carthage. Spanish sword, Gaulish spear drip with blood from 
thousands of ghastly wounds. Only one chance is left. Fall 
back, fall back and form, is the cry. And partly in obedience to 
the summons, partly yielding to the savage pressure on front 
and flank, the crested torrent begins to surge back towards 
Cannae. Already the rearmost men are turning back and giving 
way, but all too late. Exultant, frenzied from their triumphant 
pursuit, back come the squadrons of Hasdrubal, Mago, and the 
wild irregulars of Maharbal. A few seconds suffice to range 
their disciplined ranks ; then, in headlong charge, with deafening 
war-cry, they rush in upon the hitherto unassailed rear of the 
legions, and now, vac victis, Rome is hemmed in on every side. 
All is lost, but honor. 

For hours the dreadful work goes on. It is mere slaughter, 
carnage now. Little by little the great square contracts, the 
lines of Carthage close in, the brazen armor of Rome becomes 
the pavement of the lithe Spaniard or swarthy African. The 
valor, the manhood, the brawn and sinew of Italy is sacrificed to 
the criminal blundering of the idol of the populace, and, true to 
the teachings of his youth, the hero of the pavement' and sham- 
bles has butchered the army of his countrymen. In almost un- 
paralleled slaughter the eight superb legions of Rome are hewed 
and hacked to death. Consul, pro-consul, quaestor, praetor 
tribune, senator and brave heroes of the infantry, all are heaped 
among the slain. yEmilius Paullus lies there, victim of the mad 
blunder he strove in vain to avert. Servilius, the gallant pro- 
consul ; Minucius, valiant chief of cavalry, all are down, and 



HANNIBAL'S GREATEST TRIUMPH. 



115 



with them one hundred of the highest officers in the Roman 
nation ; thousands of officers of the line, tens of thousands of 
the betrayed and butchered soldiery. 

But Varro was not among them. The idol of the masses, the 
self-taught, self-sufficient general managed to slip from the 
meshes of the net, and, leaving his betrayed comrades to their 
fate, to spur in safety from the field, and take refuge behind the 
walls of Venusia. 

And now, with eighty thousand Romans, dead or dying on 
i the field ; with two great camps, and all their munitions of war 
open to his pillage ; with a loss of only six thousand of his own 
men, Hannibal is, for the third time, victorious over Rome, and 
the final victory is the most death-dealing of all. It is the 
Carthaginian's greatest triumph. It is Rome's most crushing 
defeat. Any other nation would probably have sued for peace 
on any terms, but the city, Rome itself, still stood upon its seven 
hills ; the indomitable Senate was still there, and despite Cannae, 
its fearful slaughter and awful lesson, Rome was still steadfast. 
Nation against nation, Rome was still unconquered. 




DESTRUCTION OF THE ROMAN LEGION. 



ZAMA. 




202 B. C. I 

AD Hannibal been promptly reinforced after* 
his great victory at Cannae, there is little 
question as to what would have been the fate 
of Rome. But the Carthaginians were not a 
warlike people. Shrewd merchants, bold 
navigators and traders, they preferred the 
arts of peace to any glory of conquest. They 
could not be brought to realize that so jeal- 
ous and powerful a rival as Rome must be 
crippled once and for all, or she would never rest content with a 
divided rule over the Mediterranean and its islands and sea- 
ports. It was their love for commerce and trade, their natural 
indisposition for war that prompted the Carthaginians to sue for 
peace, after successfully battling with Rome for over twenty 
years, in the first Punic war. It was this same trait that im- 
pelled them now to withhold from Hannibal the men and means 
he needed to crush the Roman capital. It was this very trait 
that now turned the tide of war against them, brought the " Sec- 
ond Punic" to a close with the terrible and decisive battle of 
Zama, and led, in the next century, to their utter annihilation. 
Penny-wise and pound-foolish, Carthage was swept from the 
face of the earth when, had she supported Hannibal in answer 
to his call, she might have ruled the world. 

The great victory of Cannae produced no great enthusiasm at 
home. The people could not see what their leaders saw : that 
Carthage must ruin Rome or Rome would ruin Carthage. 
Hannibal had been away five years. His influence was not felt 
in the home councils. The Peace party had the upper hand. 
(116) 



ACTIVITY OF THE ROMANS.. H7 

His brothers, Hasdrubal and Mago, were with him in Italy. 
No fit representative had been left behind, and as peace reigned 
at home the short-sighted patriots would have it that no neces- 
sity existed for maintaining the army abroad. The golden 
opportunity was frittered away, and before Carthage could real- 
ize it, and despite the appeals and efforts of Hannibal and Mago, 
Rome had sprung from her stupor, rallied from the blow of 
Cannae, Scipio Africanus had " carried the war into Africa," and 
Rome was at her throat. 

Then was fought the battle of Zama. A brief account of in- 
tervening events is necessary to an understanding of the loss of 
the immense advantage gained by Hannibal at Cannae. 

Rome was now practically alone. She had not more than 
one hundred thousand men, and all Italy had deserted her. 
Hannibal ruled supreme in Southern Italy, for Samnium, Cam- 
pania, Lucania and Bruttium could no longer stand by Rome. 
They had to furnish war supplies, and even soldiers for Hanni- 
bal's army, or be sacked for disobedience. Then, too, the Gauls 
sent him large reinforcements, but his favorite arm was the cav- 
alry, and this he could not strengthen abroad. He needed 
horses and horsemen from Spain and Carthage, and Mago was 
sent thither after them. 

But all this took time, and meanwhile Rome was straining 
every nerve ; the valor, the grandeur of Roman character, was 
never shown to better advantage. In Spain, thanks to the army 
sent thither by P. Cornelius Scipio, she had been steadily gain- 
ing ground. In Italy Hannibal had been compelled to divide 
his force into three armies. He could only be with one at a 
time, and Rome again sent out her legions under Fabius, Grac- 
chus and Marcellus, avoiding battle where they had to meet the 
cavalry but striking incessantly elsewhere, at the communica- 
tions and supply depots of the invaders. Hannibal failed in his 
attack on Tarentum. Gracchus fought and defeated Hanno at 
Beneventum, well-nigh destroying his army of 17,000 men. 
And though Hannibal subsequently won Tarentum by surprise, 
and Hanno partially retrieved his losses, enough had been done 
by Rome to revive hope and confidence. 



118 ZAMA. 

Mago returned from Carthage, with some few cavalry and 
more elephants, at last, and Hannibal again took the field. The 
brave Roman general, Gracchus, was trapped in ambuscade and 
killed in Lucania, and Hannibal won two more bloody and des- 
perate battles in Lucania and Apulia over the forces of Cente- 
nius and Fulvius Flaccus. The Roman consuls kept up vigor- 
ous siege of Capua, however, and Hannibal remained in the extreme 
south of Italy, well away from Rome, still waiting for reinforce- 
ments. In the following year, it is true, he made a rapid march 
against the capital, but found the garrison ready and determined 
and an assault hopeless. Then Rome took Capua and merci- 
lessly murdered such of its senators as had not poisoned them- 
selves, and though unable to cope with Hannibal in the field, 
her garrisons were indomitable. But then came bad news from 
Spain. Hasdrubal had been sent thither; had successfully 
fought the Roman legions of the Scipios. Both Scipios were 
killed, and Hasdrubal, with a large army, was coming to the 
support of his brother, Hannibal. 

In the year 208 B. C, eight years after Cannae, Hannibal was 
still master of Southern Italy, but simply holding his own. A 
new, a young Scipio was at the head of the reorganized Roman 
army in Spain, and among the praetors of the year appears for 
the first time a name that will live forever in history borne by 
an ancestor of him who made it famous one hundred and fifty 
years later — the name of Julius Caesar. 

It was evident to all that, with the summer of the following 
year, Rome would be attacked from all sides by the converging 
armies of the sons of the Thunderbolt, as Hamilcar had been 
named, and the Romans sought among themselves for leaders 
to meet and drive back that of Hasdrubal. Caius Claudius 
Nero and Marcus Livius were chosen consuls of Rome. The 
former was sent to hold Hannibal in check, while to Livius was 
confided the battle with the column from Spain. Then fortune 
favored Rome. Nero intercepted letters from Hasdrubal to 
Hannibal which betrayed to him the whole plan of the cam- 
paign. With admirable energy he took a strong detachment 
from his army, marched rapidly north, joined Livius, and to- 



"SCIPIO AFRICANUS." H9 

gether they attacked and terribly defeated the northern army of 
Carthage, killing Hasdrubal and winning for Rome the decisive 
victory of the campaign. Less than a week later the ghastly 
head of Hasdrubal was flung at his brother's feet, and Hannibal 
groaned aloud. It was the death-blow to Carthage. 

Meantime young Publius Scipio, son of him who had been 
killed in action there, was carrying all before him in Spain. As 
a mere boy he had fought at Cannae, and when only twenty- 
seven years of age was elected pro-consul for the Spanish war. 
His first exploit was the capture of New Carthage ; then the 
news of the great victory of Nero and Livius at the Metaurus 
spurred him into further effort ; he boldly attacked and defeated 
a large Carthaginian army at Elinga or Silpia, drove the Afri- 
cans out of the country, returned in triumph to Rome, and was 
immediately elected consul. 

After events crowded thick and fast. Rome was elated. Car- 
thage depressed and alarmed. Scipio carried the war into Africa. 
He landed near Carthage, laid siege to Utica, and, during the 
winter that followed, by dint of a well-planned surprise and 
night attack, burned and destroyed the camp of the Numidian 
and Carthaginian army, then commanded by Hasdrubal, a cou- 
sin of Hannibal's, utterly dispersing or killing 60,000 Numidi- 
ans and 30,000 Carthaginians. This terrible blow was speedily 
followed by another, and then, in desperation, Hannibal and 
Mago were recalled. Italy was freed from the presence of the 
invaders, and Carthage humbly sued for peace on the victor's 
own terms. These were hard enough. Carthage pledged herself 
to abandon Italy and Gaul; to cede Spain and all the islands be- 
tween Italy and Africa ; to give up all war ships but twenty, and 
to pay an immense sum of money. This was early in 202 B. C. 

As we have no Carthaginian historian the Roman account 
has to be accepted for all that followed. All the blame is 
thrown on Carthage, and " Punica Fides " became a sneering by- 
word to all posterity. Rome alleged that within a few months, 
emboldened by the return of Hannibal, Carthage broke the 
terms of the treaty and, in violation of the law of nations, strove 
to seize some Roman officers sent to inquire into an illegal 



120 ZAMA. 

detention of Roman vessels in the harbor of Carthage. At all 
events the war broke out again. Hannibal had landed at Lep- 
tis and gone into camp at Zama, five days' journey southwest of 
Carthage, and there Scipio hastened to meet him. The armies 
confronted each other on a broad, open plain. Of the exact 
numbers of each there is no authentic account, but the belief of 
historians appears to be that they were equally matched, except 
that Hannibal had with him eighty trained war-elephants, and 
this fact gave him a decided advantage. On the other hand, he 
was deficient in the very arm on which he had hitherto been so 
accustomed to rely — his light cavalry. Only 2,000 Numidian 
horsemen remained to him of the great numbers he formerly 
controlled, and, to his great annoyance, he found them con- 
fronted by 4,000 of their own countrymen under Massinissa, one 
of their own chieftains who, for a long time, had been an active 
ally of Carthage, but who had become a convert to Scipio's 
wonderful influence while in Spain. He was now passionately 
devoted to the cause of Rome, and only a day or two before the 
battle of Zama had rejoined his great leader, whom he had pre- 
viously served so well at the destruction of the Carthaginian 
camp and in the battle which followed a month later. Besides 
his 4,000 light horsemen Massinissa brought 6,000 veteran 
infantry. 

Scipio Africanus was a soldier of the very first order. He 
had fought and beaten the armies of Carthage again and again, 
but only once had he encountered them when fighting under 
the great Hannibal ; that was at Cannae ; and he well knew that 
now there was need of all his energies. Those war-elephants 
were a source of some perplexity. Their charge and rush upon 
the ranks of the legions had always been attended with disaster 
or, at least, confusion, and he determined on a plan to neutralize 
their power. 

Ordinarily the legions were drawn up in what might be 
termed loose order, though moving with all the precision of 
machinery. Each man occupied about three feet " fighting 
space " — three feet to his right and left hand neighbor, three 
feet to the rank in rear ; and these rear ranks covered the inter- 



DISPOSITIONS FOR BATTLE. 121 

val between the men in front. Scipio resolved on another sys- 
tem for the battle about to be fought. The men, instead of 
standing in this "quincunx" order, "covered" one another 
accurately. Then the files were closed in towards one another, 
leaving, at regular intervals along the front, lanes or avenues 
from front to rear through the legions, each lane wide enough 
for an elephant to rush through unimpeded. These lanes were 
then loosely filled with light, unarmored troops, who were in- 
structed to break away before the rush of the animals, and so 
entice them in through the lanes, so on out to the rear of the 
legions, where they could be easily surrounded and lanced to 
death, or, at least, put out of the way of further usefulness for 
the time being. By posting a few legionaries at the head of 
each of these avenues, so that the front of the line might look- 
uniform, these traps were entirely concealed from the Cartha- 
ginians, who placed great reliance on the powers of their ele- 
phants, and who confidently expected to throw the beautiful 
array of the glittering legions into the wildest confusion. 

His footmen being thus disposed, Scipio posted his cavalry on 
the flanks; Massinissa, with the Numidians, on the right; Lae- 
lius, with the Italians, on the left; and serenely awaited the 
result. 

And now Hannibal moved forward with his army. All had 
gone wrong with Carthage of late, and he was to make one 
supreme effort to right her. His veteran soldiers followed him 
with little hope, but absolutely without fear. They were sublime 
in their confidence in the leader who had never yet made a blun- 
der — never yet met a victor. 

First came the eighty elephants, dispersed at regular intervals, 
covering his entire front. Behind them marched the first line 
of his infantry, twelve thousand strong, made up entirely of the 
foreign troops in the service of Carthage — Moors, Gauls, Ligu- 
rians and Balearic islanders. Behind them, and probably a hun- 
dred yards or so separated from them, marched a second line, 
composed of African subjects of Carthage and of Carthaginians 
themselves. And still further in rear came the fourth line- — the 
veterans of Italy, the flower of the African army, the soldiers 



122 ZAMA. 

who had marched, fought and bled with him all over southern 
Europe. On them he looked with reliance that nothing could 
shake, and with them Hannibal himself took his station. The 
two thousand Numidian cavalry marched on his left front, so as 
to be opposed by their own brethren under Massinissa; while 
the few Carthaginian horsemen still left to him were posted on 
his right. 

The battle opened by a wild scurry and dash of the Numid- 
ians on both sides. Very probably nothing was expected to 
come of it, for almost immediately Hannibal gave the signal tot 
let loose the elephants, and then all eyes were strained to see 
the result of their lumbering but tremendous charge. On they 
come — huge, rolling, unwieldy monsters in headlong dash across 
the sandy plain — but not a sign comes from the army of Rome. 
The legions stand like burnished statues; the hot sun of Africa 
blazes on their brazen shields and crested helmets; the solid 
earth trembles beneath the thunder and tramp of the excited 
brutes now so near. Suddenly, with discordant blast, from right 
to left every trumpet in the Roman lines bursts into wild alarum 
— a frightful, ear-splitting sound: never have the elephants heard 
anything to equal it, and they are scared out of all possibility 
of use. Some, panic-stricken, tear off to the right and left 
around the flanks; others turn and rush back; others still, 
urged on by their maddened drivers, dash onward at the legions, 
and eagerly availing themselves of the friendly lanes so suddenly 
opened before them, pitch headlong in and are decoyed far to 
the rear; few do any damage whatever. Hannibal's most 
dreaded chargers have been tricked into failure. Rome has 
outwitted Carthage. In their panic several elephants on each 
flank have dashed back among the cavalry of Carthage, throwing 
them into disorder. Quick as a flash Lselius and Massinissa 
note it, and away they go with their squadrons to complete the 
rout. Quicker than the work of Hasdrubal and Mago in Italy, 
the cavalry of Carthage is swept away in hopeless flight. 

And then the lines of footmen crashed together. But the 
legions had now resumed their old formation. The foreign mer- 
cenaries of Carthage could not stand before them. They broke, 



A RUINED ARMY AND A RUINED CAUSE. J23 

reeled back on the second line, and hacked and hewed their 
way through their own supports, the legions close behind. 
Attacked thus by friend and foe, the Carthaginians could not 
long hold their ground. Thousands fell in the vain attempt, 
and at last the whole army recoiled upon Hannibal with his vet- 
eran reserve. Scipio restrained his victorious men a few moments 
to extricate them from the swarms of dead and dying and pris- 
oners—then hurled them forward on the spears of the veterans. 
Then indeed the battle became hot. On both sides courage and 
discipline were well-nigh perfect. The men fought under the 
eyes of the two finest chieftains of their century. Neither side 
would yield an inch, and had the legions of Scipio and the vete- 
rans of Hannibal been left to fight it out, there is no telling how 
it would have ended. For over an hour, hand to hand, steel to 
steel, the savage work went on; but at last the cavalry of Lselius 
and Massinissa came back from pursuit, and with exultant shouts 
charged home on the rear of the Carthaginian reserves. Then 
almost to a man the veterans of Italy died in their tracks. Sur- 
rounded, cut off from all chance of escape on the level plain, they 
could only court a soldier's death. The sun went down on 
a ruined army and a ruined cause. Zama was the last hope of 
Hannibal. 

Twenty thousand soldiers of Carthage were there slain; twenty 
thousand more were taken prisoners. Hannibal himself cut his 
way through when his presence could no longer result in benefit, 
and made his way to Carthage, where his services would be 
needed more than ever. 

This splendid victory of Scipio's resulted in the utter subjec- 
tion of Carthage. She acceded to the harsh terms of her con- 
querors sadly but helplessly, even giving one hundred of her 
youth as hostages for future observation of her treaties. She 
retained only ten war-ships, surrendered all prisoners, deserters, 
even her elephants, and agreed to engage in no war even in 
Africa without Roman consent, besides paying an immense fine. 
As for Rome, as the result of Zama and the end of the second 
Punic war, she now became the ruler of Italy, Sicily, Corsica, 
Sardinia, most of Spain and virtually of Northern Africa and the 



124 



ZAMA. 



Mediterranean. Hannibal was driven from his native country, 
and wandered about from kingdom to kingdom striving to find 
a command in any service that might be at war with hated 
Rome, finally dying at the age of sixty-four at the court of 
Prusias, in Bithynia — probably by suicide to avoid falling into 
the hands of the Romans. 

Broken as she was, Carthage still retained her superb city and 
harbor, with her seven hundred thousand inhabitants, and, in 
her jealousy, Rome oppressed and humbled her until at last 
again she was goaded into resentment. One hundred and fifty 
years before Christ, in misery and desperation, the Carthaginians 
took up arms for the third Punic war. It was brief enough. 
In four years their proud city was razed to the ground — not one 
stone was left upon another. Their territory became a Roman 
province, and they themselves — those who were wretched enough 
to survive — wanderers upon the face of the earth. Carthage 
was no more. 




CHARGE OF HANNIBAL'S ELEPHANTS. 



CYNOSCEPHALiE. 




197 B. C. 

NDER Philip of Macedon, pupil of Epamin- 
ondas and father of Alexander the Great, 
Macedon rose to power and prominence, and 
the Macedonian phalanx became the most 
perfect military machine of the old days. 
Under another Philip of Macedon, 150 years 
afterwards, both phalanx and monarchy 
went to pieces before the legions of Rome. 
Three times did Macedon become in- 
volved with the great nation that rose to the west. The first 
war was indecisive and of no lasting importance. The second 
was the outgrowth of the first, and in a measure brought about 
by the active sympathy shown by King Philip to Hannibal 
during the second Punic war. No sooner was Zama won and 
Rome at liberty to turn from Carthage and settle her quarrel 
with Philip than, in 200 B. C, the Senate declared war against 
Macedon. Six new legions were formed, and with two of these 
the consul Galba landed at Apollonia, on the shore of Illyria. 
As part of the spoil of Carthage he had with him also several 
war-elephants and 1,000 Numidian cavalry. 

Up to this time the Macedonian phalanx had been invincible. 
Its arms and formation have been described under the head of 
Arbela, but now it was destined to meet its conqueror in the 
superb legion of Rome, and, though it must be remembered 
that for over a century the Macedonians and Greeks generally 
had been steadily falling off from the high standard of disci- 
pline and physical powers for which they had been renowned 

(125) 



126 CYNOSCEPHAL^E. 

under Lycurgus, Epaminondas and Alexander, and that the 
Romans had as steadily been arriving at an almost perfect de- 
velopment of military strength and prowess, it is impossible to 
understand how the hitherto impenetrable phalanx was ruined, 
as it was in the second and third Macedonian wars, without a 
description of the legion itself. At Cynoscephalse and Pydna the 
legion laid the phalanx at its feet, and it is here, therefore, that 
its description seems most appropriate. 

The Roman soldier of the Caesars was the result of nine cen- 
turies of experiment in actual war. At the end of the second 
Punic, 200 years before Christ, he had not yet reached the de- 
gree of perfection attained two centuries later, and the legion 
itself differed materially from that which maintained the standard 
of the emperors. But even before the days of Cannae and Zama 
military education had become compulsory throughout the Ro- 
man provinces, and military duty was exacted of all able-bodied 
citizens when the need of the republic so demanded. 

The consular legion of 200 B. C. comprised 4,500 men, divided 
as follows: \, 200 has/ati, the newest and least experienced of the 
legionary troops; 1,200 principcs, well-trained soldiers; 1,200 
velites, light troops or skirmishers; 600 triarii, veterans in re- 
serve ; 300 equites, knights and gentlemen of families of rank, 
acting as cavalry. The legion when formed in order of battle 
or for martial exercise was drawn up in three lines ; the hastati 
and principes being divided into ten maniples or companies of 
120 men each; while the veteran triarii, who formed the third 
line, had only sixty to the company. Each maniple was com- 
manded by a centurion, or captain, and for other officers had a 
second centurion, or lieutenant, and two sergeants, with a de- 
canus, or corporal, to every ten men. Each of the three lines 
was commanded by its senior captain; no such offices as our 
modern colonelcies, majorities, etc., being adopted, and the senior 
centurion of the triarii commanded the whole legion when its 
general was absent. He was called the primipilus. The staff 
of the legion consisted of six tribunes, who attended to all the 
details of feeding, clothing and paying the men, and who com- 
manded the legion two months at a time in turn, until, during 



COMPARISON OF THE FORCES. 127 

the civil wars, a legatus, or lieutenant-general, corresponding to 
our modern brigadier, was assigned to the command. 

The cavalry of the consular legion was divided into ten turmce, 
or troops of thirty horsemen each, and as these little troops 
were composed of youths of noble families whose services in war 
were to be the stepping-stones to prominence in public life, their 
officers were greater in number than those of the foot soldiery, 
there being three decurions to each turma, the senior com- 
manding. 

The velites were divided equally among the maniples of the 
lines of battle, each company having a certain number of these 
active and light-armed troops to protect its front and flanks from 
sudden attack. 

Now while in point of numbers the consular legion differed 
from that of the empire, and while some alterations were made 
in the order of battle, the armament and the individual instruc- 
tion of the soldier remained practically the same. The footmen 
of the line of the legion were equipped alike with two barbed, 
iron-headed javelins, one of them, the pilum, being six feet in 
length, terminated by a massive eighteen-inch point, and this 
terrible weapon the soldier was constantly exercised in hurling 
with a sure, steady hand and muscular arm. The other, a lighter 
spear, was generally retained as defence against cavalry. Be- 
sides his spears the soldier carried on the right hip a short, heavy, 
two-edged cut-and-thrust sword, a Spanish invention that Rome 
had adopted before the days of Hannibal's invasion. He was 
taught to hurl the pilum when about ten or twelve paces from 
the enemy, then to draw his short sword and rush in for close 
combat'; and here the Roman soldier was a foe to be dreaded. 
His defensive armor was a massive helmet of brass, surmounted 
by tall plumes of red and black ; a breast-plate or coat of mail ; 
greaves, or metal-bound boots, worn at first only on the right leg 
but afterwards on both ; while on his left arm he carried a pon- 
derous, oblong shield, four feet long, two and a half wide, made 
on wooden frame, covered with bull's-hide, but banded and 
plated with brass, the whole being semi-cylindrical in shape. 

Drawn up in order of battle the legion was a superb sight. 



128 CYNOSCEPHAL^E. 

Its armor glistened in the sunlight and its plumes waved and 
nodded in the breeze. The men by incessant exercise were de- 
veloped to great physical strength, and handled their massive 
weapons with the utmost ease. Modern soldiers could not begin 
to stagger along under the weight with which the Roman foot- 
man cheerily trudged his twenty miles in six marching hours: 
for, besides his shield and arms, the Roman carried about him 
his food, his cooking kit, portions of his tent, or hut, and his 
intrenching tools ; and the instant the legion was halted or called 
to prepare for action these "impedimenta" were thrown aside 
and the soldier stepped forth fresh and vigorous, ready for 
battle. 

Constant practice, constant discipline and exercise was the 
secret of the grand series of successes that soon attended the 
Roman arms ; and one notable thing to be remembered is that 
the arms, with which their daily instruction was conducted, were 
just twice the weight of those with which they rushed into bat- 
tle. His fighting tools felt like playthings in the grasp of the 
stalwart Roman, and, as all these points had been neglected 
more and more among the nations to the east, it is easy to begin 
to see how those terrible short swords were soon to hew their 
way over the Hellespont and into the heart of Asia. 

But now comes the point in which, most radically of all, the 
legion differed from the phalanx. The latter, we have seen, was 
one compact mass ; the syntagma being sixteen front, sixteen 
deep, armed with the long, unwieldy " 24-foot" sarissa, and cov- 
ered by locked shields. A terrific force when charging down 
hill or on level ground ; a terrible foe to meet spear to spear ; 
but clumsy, helpless if attacked in flank or rear, and easily 
broken on rough ground. The formation of the legion was 
science and strength combined. It was far more soldierly. 

Each man had three feet " fighting space " to begin with, three 
feet from shoulder to shoulder in the ranks, three feet from 
breast to back in the files. It was an open order. More than 
that: instead of "covering" each other in file, the men of the 
even numbered ranks stood opposite the intervals between the 
men of the odd numbered, in what is called quincunx order, 



THE ROMAN LEGION. 129 

By two short steps to the front the even numbered rank could 
come into line with the odd, forming four solid ranks (for the 
legion was generally drawn up eight deep). By a side step to 
the right the even numbered ranks could place themselves in 
rear of the men of the odd ranks, forming the maniple in closed 
files with three feet interval between them. A great advantage, 
for a wearied or exhausted line of hastati or principes, without 
falling back one step, could instantly be replaced by a fresh line 
from the rear which, rushing up through the open spaces, could 
hurl its pi/a in the faces of the pressing foe, draw its swords, and 
then, as the wearied line fell back, the new men sprang into 
their places with the quickness of thought, and the panting foe- 
men were confronted by a regiment of perfectly fresh antagonists. 

The legion could face to the right, left or rear, was ready to 
fight at any instant, in any direction. The phalanx was led- 
like in its weight, the legion steel-like in elasticity, and could it 
once hew its way in through the hedge of Macedonian pikes, or 
entrap the solid mass of Macedonia's hoplites into boggy or 
broken ground, there was no question as to which formation 
would be the more effective. 

Remembering now that with the Romans all was discipline, 
skill and enthusiastic faith in their physical prowess ; that with 
the Macedonians there had been no such soldiers as Alexander 
for more than a century, and all martial exercises had been 
neglected ; the reader who has seen the phalanx sweep resist- 
lessly through an hundred times its weight in foemen, will be 
prepared for what follows : its utter demolition at Cynoscephalae. 

The present Philip of Macedon was a good soldier, a man of 
much energy and intelligence, but of no principle. He had 
made many enemies in Greece, and his kingdom was very gen- 
erally assailed when the Romans, under Galba, landed at Apol- 
lonia. Hastening to meet them, he moved with an army of 
about equal size into Western Macedonia, a wild and unsettled 
region. He was somewhat confounded by this sudden move of 
Rome, and would gladly have made peace could he have done 
so without dishonor. 
' Rome's pretence for the war was. that in a recent invasion of 
9 



130 CYNOSCEPHALiE. 

Attica, King Philip had made " an attack on a state in alliance 
with Rome," but jealousy and fear of Macedonian conquest in 
Asia and her power over the Greeks generally, was the real 
cause. 

It was late in the year 200 B. C. that the Romans landed. 
In the following spring some indecisive encounters took place, 
and yet nothing of importance occurred until the yEtolians, 
Dardani and Illyrians joined in the uprising against Macedon, a 
Roman fleet appeared off the eastern coast, and Philip had to 
fall back pursued by Galba. A battle was fought in a wooded 
mountain pass, and the Macedonian spears proved clumsy and 
useless in such a position, and Philip had to retreat still farther. 
But Galba was timid and went back to the coast, and as between 
Rome and Macedon nothing further happened until the summer 
of 198 B. C, when the new consul, Titus Quinctius Flaminius, 
came over, heavily reinforced the legions already in Illyria, and 
started a new campaign. Like Rome's most successful generals, 
Flaminius was a young man, only thirty, skillful as a soldier and 
successful as a diplomatist. Philip met him in conference and 
proposed terms of peace, but the Roman demands were too ex- 
acting, and they parted to settle the differences in battle. 
Treachery of some Epirots enabled Flaminius to win the first 
advantage and drive Philip from his camp. Then the Achaeans 
allied themselves with the Romans, and the affairs of Macedon 
became desperate. Philip fell back, and during the winter en- 
deavored once more to make peace. Two months armistice 
was agreed upon while envoys were sent to Rome. They came 
back disappointed. Nothing would satisfy the Senate but the 
total surrender by Macedon of all her foreign possessions, and 
Philip would not listen to such a proposition. 

Then began the spring campaign of 197 B. C. Flaminius had 
managed to possess himself of Thebes in Boeotia, and by this 
means to break off communication between the Macedonians to 
the north and their garrison at Corinth. From this point he 
marched northward into Thessaly, intending to assault Philip, 
whom he expected to find guarding the pass of Tempe. 

But Philip had gained confidence, his wrath against Rome was 



PHILIP HOPEFUL AND CONFIDENT. } 31 

now very great, and in his eagerness for battle he determined 
not to await the coming of Flaminius, but to march southward 
to meet him, and so it happened that one gloomy, rainy day the 
Roman vanguard suddenly and unexpectedly ran into the ad- 
vance of Macedonia. 

North of the little town of Scotussa in Pelasgiotis, a district 
of Eastern Thessaly that was comparatively level, there rises 
from the flat plateau of the Karadagh a rather high and abruptly 
sloping hill then called Cynoscephalse — Dogs-head. Some dis- 
tance south of this landmark the Roman camp had been estab- 
lished the night before, and though in total ignorance of the 
nearness of any enemy, the invariable practice of the Romans 
had been carried out, and even when only halting for the night 
the camp was carefully intrenched. Here Flaminius had a force 
of 26,000 men, all told, mainly Roman legionaries, though sev- 
eral thousand allies, ^Etolians, Apolloniates and Cretans had 
joined him on the march. His great superiority lay in cavalry, 
for therein he had the best blood in Rome : young soldiers full 
of intelligence, zeal and ambition, and some of these troopers it 
was who, early on this memorable day, rode suddenly over the 
crest before them and "found themselves in the midst of the 
Macedonian light troops. 

Philip's army was about equal in numbers, but only 16,000 were 
phalangites ; the remainder being made up of vassals, conscripts 
and irregulars. Even old men and young boys, too, had been 
drafted in to fill the squares of his hoplites, for Macedonia was 
strained to the utmost. The cavalry of Macedon, once the fa- 
vorite arm of the great Alexander, had fallen off greatly, both in 
numbers and efficiency, from their old standard, and were now 
not to be compared with the Roman knights on their fleet and 
sturdy Spanish horses. But Philip was hopeful and confident. 
Flaminius was a long way from his base of supplies, and, were 
they to meet in Thessaly, where the ground was so favorable for 
his phalanx, the chances were, he thought, heavily in his favor. 
He, too, had encamped for the night not far from Cynoscephalae, 
but facing south, and it is hard to say whether he knew of the 
proximity of the Romans or not. At all events there is nothing 



132 



CYNOSCEPIIAL/E. 



to indicate preparations to receive them on that ground, and per- 
haps one side was no more astonished than the other when the 
advanced guards stumbled upon one another at the crest. 

From the camp Flaminius could see scurry and commotion 
along the distant slopes, and instantly divined that his light 
horsemen had met the enemy. Next, as his horsemen and the 
skirmishers, well out to the front, came hurrying in, he realized 
that the enemy must be in force ; and, while the ranks of the 
stately legions were quickly forming, he ordered the yEtolian 
cavalry and the velites out to the front to support the Roman \ 
knights. Charging impetuously they in turn outnumbered the 
Macedonian advanced guard, drove them up the slope, over the 
ridge and then, rashly pursuing, went thundering down the 
northern side and ran squarely into the whole Macedonian army, 
now rapidly advancing in line of battle. All the northern cav- 
alry, all the irregulars, archers and dartmen swarmed in upon 
the Romans, whose own velites had been unable to keep up with 
them ; and, with very great loss in killed, they were forced to 
turn and spur back again, closely pursued and well-nigh sur- 
rounded by the enemy's horsemen. This time there seemed to 
be no hope of reforming. In the ardor of their pursuit the 
knights of the Roman horse had utterly broken their ranks, the 
turmcB were confusedly mixed, officers scattered here and there, 
some with no officers at all ; they had simply raced the Macedo- 
nian vanguard back over the hill towards the north, had left the 
thousand horsemen of ^itolia far behind them, and were practi- 
cally alone when they found themselves halted by running into 
the line of battle. This last was a fortunate accident, for, having' 
kept their ranks, the yEtolians were ready once more to come to 
the rescue, and by a well-timed charge succeeded in checking 
the Macedonian horse and giving the turmce time to rally and 
once again straighten out their lines. 

But all this was mere preliminary to what was to come. Both 
generals had been compelled to hurry their armies into ranks 
and to move forward in support of their advance. Roman disci- 
pline and steadiness had enabled Flaminius, in a few minutes, to 
deploy his beautiful legions, and, with steady step and fronts 



ROME AT A DISADVANTAGE. 133 

perfectly aligned, to move them forward along the plateau. The 
importance of seizing and holding that intervening height seems 
to have flashed upon him and upon King Philip at the same 
instant. Rome had farther to go, and the front of the line was 
still encumbered by the fighting groups of horsemen. On the 
other hand, the instant the soldiers of the phalanx had seen the 
Roman knights and horsemen turn and spur back up the slope, 
followed by the whole force of Macedon's cavalry, they de- 
manded to be led at once against the enemy, and impetuously 
started forward. Philip, with the right wing, could not resist 
the impulse ; and so, calling to the left wing to follow speedily as 
it could form, and leaving it to the charge of Nicanor, he pushed 
up the slope, reaching the crest and forming in order of battle 
just as his cavalry and light troops came tearing back, before 
the advance of the legions of Rome. 

Through eddying mist and plashing rain he could see their 
long brazen ranks just breasting the slopes. Looking back he 
could see that the left wing of the great phalanx was now 
moving up to his support. Eager to close at once, realizing the 
vast advantage mass and velocity would give him could he 
charge at once down-hill upon the perfect order of the Roman 
lines, he could wait no longer. "Forward" was the order; 
down crashed the long sarissa to the charge, and with confident, 
exulting hearts, the men of the Macedonian right were launched 
in upon the lines of Rome. Sixteen deep, mail-clad, massive — 
what could withstand them ? In vain, as they came within 
range, the pila were hurled upon them, and the ready short- 
swords leaped into air. In vain Roman valor strove to check 
that terrible advance. Just as at Leuctra, thundering down that 
smooth, graded slope, the phalanx was like one vast engine of 
war sweeping all before it. Rome's javelins, swords and brawny 
arms were all impotent against it. The Roman left was over- 
turned and brushed out of its path, and crashing through the 
lines of the hastati and principes the spears of the phalanx were 
buried deep in the disordered swarms of legionaries now flock- 
ing about the flanks. Trampled under foot as were some few 
of the Romans, their light and elastic formation enabled them to 



134 CYNOSCEPHALiE. 

bend before the shock. The limb of the stout oak is torn off by 
the tempest, while the slender willow bows and bends before, yet 
triumphs over the blast. An opposing phalanx unable to give 
way would have suffered terrible loss. Rome's nimble legions, 
seeing the impossibility of stopping this iron avalanche, jumped 
to one side and let it through — then fastened on its flank and 
rear. The Roman left was broken, not beaten. 

Meantime Nicanor, with the left wing of the phalanx in very 
loose array, had hurried up to the crest, arriving just as King 
Philip dashed forward in charge with the right. He was not 
ready to attack. The syntagmata were not completely formed, 
but believing it to be his duty to lose no time in supporting his 
king's assault, he never stopped to take breath or straighten out 
his lines, but impulsively kept on. It was a fatal error. 

In front of King Philip the slope was smooth and regular. In 
front of Nicanor it was broken and cut up by ravines. In front 
of Philip was the unsupported line of the Roman legion. In 
front of Nicanor, in the Roman right wing, there came a dozen 
huge war-elephants. It was too late now. As best they could, 
the spearmen of the Macedonian left were struggling through the 
broken ground in their dash down the hillside, but the order of 
the phalanx was broken, and all of a sudden, long before they 
could close with the Romans, the elephants came thundering 
among them, scattering spearmen in every direction, spreading 
confusion everywhere ; in helpless wonderment they were left to 
deal with these novel enemies against whom their unwieldy 
spears were of such little account, and then before anything 
could be devised to rid them of their torment, with fierce shout 
and blare of trumpet, with the terrible javelins of the Romans 
hurtling through the air upon their now unguarded bodies, they 
were set upon by the stalwart infantry of the legions. The 
Roman right wing was upon them. 

Even while this disaster had befallen the Macedonian left wing, 
the legions of the Roman left had reformed and closed in upon 
the flanks and rear of the phalanx under Philip. Once started 
it had proved hard to stop, had burst through towards the 
Roman camp, and was now hopelessly separated from its com 



MACEDONIA PROSTRATE. 135 

panion under Nicanor. With nothing to rely on but the now 
useless sarissa the Macedonian right found itself suddenly 
assailed on both flanks and rear by the vigorous swordsmen of 
Italy. Consternation seized them. Already terrible slaughter 
was going on, for the Romans were hewing their way in almost 
unopposed. They had only to thrust vigorously with that 
deadly sword, and down would go the opponent in a torrent 
of his own blood. In dismay and terror the Macedonians of 
both wings now raised their spears, their signal for surrender, 
but the Romans had never seen it before, knew not its meaning, 
and the ghastly butchery went on. The two phalanxes were 
utterly destroyed, and while the Roman loss had been compara- 
tively slight, over ten thousand Macedonians lay weltering in 
their blood. The legion had triumphed over the invincible 
phalanx, and Macedon was prostrate at the feet of Rome. 

Flaminius proved a generous victor. His ^Etolian allies 
demanded the annihilation of Macedon, but they had disgusted 
him by their boastings after the battle and by styling themselves 
the " victors of Cynoscephalae," and he rebuked them for their 
arrogance, treated Philip with all courtesy and respect, and 
finally secured to him the terms granted to Carthage. Macedon 
lost all her foreign possessions ; all her war ships but five ; 
agreed to maintain no larger army than five thousand men ; to 
engage in no war without consent of Rome, and to furnish troops 
as allies for Rome against Asiatic powers when required. 
These conditions complied with and a fine of one thousand 
talents (nearly #1,220,000) paid over to Rome, Philip was allowed 
to go in peace, and Macedon was reduced to a mere impover- 
ished state. Her political importance was gone forever. Rome 
was now undisputed ruler of Southern Europe and Northern 
Africa. Her next move was upon Asia. 



MAGNESIA. 




. 190 B. C. 

T will be remembered that after the death of 
Alexander the Great at Babylon in 323 B. C. 
his great conquests in Asia and Africa were 
divided among his prominent generals. Anti- 
gonus, Ptolemy, Lysimachus and Seleucus were 
the four chiefs. Antigonus was killed in battle 
301 B. C, and twenty years afterwards Seleucus 
was assassinated, but not until his title of king 
had been firmly established and his monarchy 
extended over all the country between the Indus and Phrygia. 

Under his descendants, the Seleucidae, this great empire 
dwindled gradually away, but even at the time of Che second 
Macedonian war with Rome it comprised Syria, Palestine and 
much of Asia Minor, and now in 197 B. C. Antiochus the Great, 
as he called himself, a great-great-grandson of Seleucus, was 
on the throne. 

Of Macedonian descent, his sympathies had been with King 
Philip during the war just brought to a close by the disaster of 
Cynoscephalae ; but this sympathy was due more to a jealousy 
of the rising power of Rome than to any especial sentiment of 
friendship for Macedon. He had hoped to conquer Egypt by 
the aid of Philip, in which case he would have been compelled 
to divide the spoil, but now that Philip was humbled and power- 
less he set about winning it without him, and presently his in- 
terests clashed with those of Rome. Marked successes with 
which he had met in the Egyptian provinces made him over- 
confident, and his next move was to risk a war with Rome by 
(136) 



THERMOPYLAE AGAIN. 137 

crossing the Hellespont and invading the Thracian Chersonese. 
Then Rome's old enemy, Hannibal, came to visit Antiochus at 
Ephesus, and was received with such distinction that Rome was 
justified in looking upon the king as an avowed enemy and 
should have prepared to meet him. 

But, by some strange error, Flaminius withdrew at this mo- 
ment all the Roman garrisons from Greece, and, doubly en- 
couraged, Antiochus became more openly hostile. The yEtol- 
ians now broke out against Rome, and were so warmly supported 
by Antiochus that there could be no further delay. In the spring 
of 193 B. C. Rome demanded that Antiochus " should either 
evacuate Europe and dispose of Asia at his pleasure, or retain 
Thrace and submit to Roman protectorate over Smyrna, Lamp- 
sacus and Alexandria Troas." Antiochus would do neither, 
and war was declared in the spring of 192. 

And now, though the fight was between Rome and Asia, 
Greece became the battle-ground, as she lay midway between 
them. Antiochus, with a small army of about 10,000 men, 
landed at Pteleum on the Pagassean Gulf, in southeastern Thes- 
saly, and a Roman army of 25,000 at the same time disembarked 
at their accustomed place on the opposite side of the peninsula 
— Apollonia, in southwestern Illyria. 

The first advantage was gained by the Asiatics, who captured 
Chalcis, the principal city of the island of Eubcea, established 
head-quarters there and annihilated a Roman division at Delium, 
on the opposite shore of the straits. Then came a winter with 
no decisive actions on either side, but in the spring of 191 heavy 
reinforcements arrived from Rome, and Antiochus, who had 
taken up a strong position at time-honored Thermopylae, and 
had intrusted to the ^Etolians the defence of the mountain path- 
way by which Xerxes had " turned " Leonidas, was totally sur- 
prised and had his army cut to pieces before his eyes. He him- 
self escaped with only 500 men to Chalcis, and, abandoning 
everything, hurried back to Ephesus. His European scheme of 
conquest was ruined. He had lost everything but some trivial 
possessions in Thrace. 

All the winter that followed was filled up with important naval 



138 



MAGNESIA. 



movements, the fleets of Antiochus and of Rome constantly 
meeting everywhere from the Hellespont to the Mediterranean, 
and finally in August, 190, a great sea-fight took place at the 
promontory of Myonesus, where the Romans took or sank 
forty-two ships and totally defeated the Asiatics. After that 
there was no farther attempt on the part of Antiochus either to 
meet the Romans at sea or to check the crossing of the army 
at the Hellespont. In fact, he was so panic-stricken by this 
unlooked-for disaster to his fleet that he hastily ordered the 
abandonment of a strong position still held by his troops at. 
Lysimachia, near the Thracian Chersonese, and left other garri- 
sons at ALnus and Maronea to their fate. 

And now the hero of Spain and Africa, the conqueror of Han- 
nibal, Scipio Africanus, was called upon by his fellow-citizens to 
carry the war into Asia. The Roman reserve in Italy was sent 
forward into Greece, and the army in Greece under Glabrio was 
destined for the advance into Asia under the gallant young sol- 
dier who had triumphed over Rome's most powerful enemy. 
Such was the enthusiasm of the army when it was announced 
that Scipio was again to take the field that 5,000 of his old com- 
rades, veterans of Spain and Africa, volunteered for the hazard- 
ous campaign on new and untried fields. They were to serve 
under him whom they regarded as invincible, and that was 
sufficient. 

Scipio joined the army in March ; found the ^Etolians hostile 
and troublesome, and was compelled to waste valuable time in 
a mountain warfare with those rather unprincipled characters. 
Finally he arranged a six months' armistice, and then set forth 
upon his march to the Hellespont. It was a long, tedious, un- 
eventful journey along the shores of Thrace and Macedon, King 
Philip obediently supplying rations and securing them from in- 
terruption, and the army reached the Chersonese in August, and, 
utterly unopposed, as opposed they should have been, crossed 
the Hellespont and were fairly in Asia Minor. Rome had 
invaded Asia. 

Thoroughly alarmed, Antiochus now begged for peace; offered 
to pay half the expenses of the war and to cede the Chersonese 



SCIPIO ill. 139 

and certain Greek cities in Asia Minor. Scipio, however, de- 
manded the whole cost of the war and the surrender to Rome 
of all Asia Minor. Having come that far, and feeling sure of 
his ground, it is probable that Scipio determined on complete 
conquest or a pitched battle. His manner therefore was inten- 
tionally arrogant and haughty. Antiochus was enraged by it, 
and instead of falling back into the interior, drawing the Ro- 
mans after him and then breaking up their sources of supply, 
he was goaded into desire for battle, and battle there was 
forthwith. 

Just north of where Smyrna now lies, on the extreme eastern 
end of the gulf of the same name, there rises a tall eminence, 
Mount Siphylus by name, and around its northern base there 
flows from east to west a placid stream, the river then called 
Hermus, now the Sarabat. On the left or southern bank of the 
river, at the foot of Mount Siphylus, lay a little town called 
Magnesia. There was still another Magnesia close by Ephesus, 
farther to the south, but it is this little town in the valley of the 
Hermus that is memorable as the scene of the one land conflict 
which gave to Rome her ascendency in the East. 

Here, late in the autumn, while marching southward on the 
capital of Antiochus, the Roman army encountered the Asiatic 
forces, and the battle began without further ceremony. Scipio 
had been taken ill and was left behind at Elaea, but, with perfect 
confidence in the result, had pushed his army ahead under the 
command of Gnaeus Domitius. It was a small force to venture 
in through a hostile country, but the line of march was near the 
coast and aid could be relied on from the Roman fleet should 
disaster befall them. But Scipio feared no disaster. His men 
were in perfect discipline and condition, and, though he had not 
more than 35,000, all told, he entertained no fear as to the 
result. 

Against them Antiochus formed in battle order no less than 
80,000 men, 12,000 of whom were cavalry. The battle-ground 
was hemmed in by heights and so narrow that he was compelled 
to mass his forces, in order to get them into position at all. His 
was an unwieldy and very heterogeneous army. All manner of 



140 MAGNESIA. 

soldiery served therein, so that the variety was almost as great 
as in the days of Xerxes. He formed them in two lines. In 
the first were, posted the light troops, archers, stone-slingers 
and peltaslcB ; the mounted archers of the Dahae and Mysians; 
Arabs on dromedaries, and the dreaded war-chariots with their 
cruel scythes and spear-tipped poles. In the second line on 
both flanks were posted the heavy cavalry who, being armed 
with breastplate and helmet for defence against javelin and 
arrow, were an innovation on all former ideas of Asiatic horse- 
men, and were copied probably from the Macedonians, as was 
the massive phalanx, 1 6,000 strong, which was posted in the 
centre of the second line, and was regarded as the very flower 
of the whole army. The confined space made it necessary to 
draw up the phalanx in double deep order, thirty-two instead of 
sixteen files, and there it stood, armed and equipped in all re- 
spects as was the phalanx of Alexander, a dangerous foe to 
withstand should it come to the charge, but a bulky and un- 
wieldy mass in a crowded or broken ground. Between the 
compact battalions of the phalanx and the cataphractce or heavy 
cavalry were the light infantry, Gallic and Cappadocian, recruited 
from Eastern Asia Minor; and, finally, between the two divi- 
sions or lines were placed fifty-four elephants, trained, as were 
those of Hannibal, to charge and break up the ranks of the 
enemy. All the strength and solidity, all the real force of the 
mixed array of Antiochus seemed to be in the second line. All 
in front was of light or irregular order. 

And against this motley army the soldiers of Rome, in disci- 
plined silence, took up their position. 

On their left flank, securing it from assault by cavalry, flowed 
the river Hermus. Here, therefore, only a small command of 
horsemen was placed instead of the equal division usually noted 
on each flank. The main body of the Roman horse was out on 
the extreme right of their line, 3,000 in number, all under the 
leadership of Eumenes. Under him also were the light troops 
and the allies, some 5,000 in number, Achaeans, Pergamenes and 
Macedonians. But in the centre and left-centre were drawn up 
the glittering legions, and herein lay the strength and confidence 



THE BATTLE BEGINS. 141 

of Rome. Back of the line, some little distance, stood the 
Roman camp, guarded by only a handful of picked men, for 
Domitius never doubted the result and never dreamed that a 
possibility existed of attack on the camp itself. 

Eumenes opened the ball. The archers and slingers were 
launched out to the front and, in compliance with their orders, 
opened fire, not on the opposing soldiery but on the teams of 
the chariots and on the camels. Wounded, stung and fright- 
ened, teams and camels were almost instantly thrown into dis- 
order, became unmanageable, and many turned and dashed off 
to the rear. This being just what Eumenes expected, he had 
his fine body of cavalry in readiness, and the instant the lines of 
chariots and camels began to break up and turn about in panicky 
confusion he signalled the advance, led in at full gallop, and the 
camels and team-horses hearing the uproar behind them could 
not be controlled, and, worse still, dashed headlong into the 
midst of the heavy cavalry of the second line just as their gen- 
eral was essaying to lead them out to meet the advancing 
Romans. The cataphractae of the Asiatic left were thrown into 
confusion and their efforts to advance rendered powerless, and 
at this instant the Roman horsemen rushed in at the charge, 
directing their main attack upon the light infantry on the left of 
the phalanx, who made no stand whatever against such impetu- 
ous assault, but while some ran for their lives to the rear, others, 
the greater portion of them, huddled in under the spears of the 
phalanx where alone they were safe, but where they utterly im- 
peded its movements and threw it in turn upon the defensive 
just at the very moment when Antiochus expected and ordered 
it to advance upon the legions.. 

Never doubting that his grand phalanx was moving in sup- 
port, he now threw forward his entire right wing, leading it in 
person, and easily overthrew the few Roman cavalry between 
the legions and the river; and, followed by swarms of his 
men who were glad enough to sweep through the opening 
thus afforded without having to come within range of the jave- 
lins and swords of the Roman infantry, he rushed ahead, leaving 
the battle behind him, and fiercely attacked the Roman camp. 



142 MAGNESIA. 

Several thousand of his soldiers having followed him, this proved 
a far more attractive undertaking against the little garrison than 
facing those dreaded horsemen out on the open plain, and yet 
the Roman guard made so vigorous and determined a defence 
that even their overwhelming force was repulsed, and while 
forming anew for another attack, Antiochus learned, to his dis- 
may, that all had gone against him in the battle itself. The 
phalanx was in full retreat. This was stunning news, but only 
too true. When he, with his right wing, advanced to the attack 
of the Roman left, he had ordered the whole phalanx to charge 
and overturn the legions in front of them. But the phalanx was 
blocked ; first, by the swarms of its own allies huddling about it 
for protection ; then, as these were let in through the intervals, 
the Roman cavalry vehemently assailed them on both flanks, 
compelling them to face outward and " couch " their spears. Then, 
as the horsemen by preconcerted signal drew back, the whole 
5,000 irregulars, archers, slingers, dart-throwers, came swarming 
lightly around them, just out of reach of the long spears, but 
rattling in upon them an incessant hail of barbed missiles or 
heavy stones, every one of which found its mark on some one 
in the jammed and goaded ranks. The one thing for the pha- 
lanx to do was instantly to advance in concerted movement, 
sweep, as it easily could sweep, all before it and bear down on 
the legions ; but, whether because no orders could be heard in 
the din and confusion, whether because their leaders were 
already down, or the battalions of the phalanx were cut off from 
one another in the melee, it seems that after some time helplessly 
and irresolutely standing their ground, the 16,000 massively 
armed hoplites began slowly, and with very fair order, to fall 
back before a far less number of foemen. Then the elephants, 
who all this time should have been employed in tearing to and 
fro through the legions, being stung by darts, rocks and javelins, 
and frightened by the uproar around them, became new elements 
of mischief, turning about and trampling through the retreating 
masses of the phalanx itself, tearing huge lanes among the spear- 
men, and utterly destroying their organization. This was the 
very thing for which Eumenes was praying. 



ANTIOCHUS VANQUISHED. 143 

Once more he launched in the cavalry, front, flank and rear, 
and now the Roman horsemen were able to dash in among uplifted 
spears and hew their way into the heart of the mail-clad squares. 
Another moment and with despairing cries the phalanx utterly 
broke, and, turning backs to the foe, took refuge in wild and dis- 
orderly flight. It was all over with Antiochus. At the camp a 
rally was attempted, but only added to the carnage. The heavy 
cavalry had long since disappeared in cowardly retreat, the foot- 
men were left to find what shelter they might, and, hunted down, 
pursued, relentlessly butchered, as was the savage fashion of the 
day, the army of Asia was utterly cut to pieces and destroyed. 
Incredible as it may seem, fifty thousand of the soldiers of Antio- 
chus were either killed, desperately wounded or prisoners, and 
this magnificent victory had been won without even calling upon 
the legions. They had not hurled a single javelin. The triumph 
of Magnesia, that gave to Rome a third continent, cost her just 
twenty-four troopers and three hundred footmen. 

And now Antiochus sued for peace. His army gone, his navy 
blockaded, what there was left of it; he had no alternative. 
Asia Minor was surrendered to Rome, even Ephesus going with 
the grand total of cities and provinces, and, the kingdom of the 
Seleucidae having gone to pieces under the fifth ruler of the race, 
there remained to Asia no monarchy or combination of powers 
to resist Roman invasion. Winning Magnesia she had practi- 
cally won everything. If not absolutely the ruler, she was 
beyond question " the arbitress of the world from the Atlantic 
to the Euphrates." Three great nations had successively gone 
down before her. Three great states had become virtually 
merged in Rome, since they had no independent existence : the 
fourth, Egypt, was already under her protection. All others 
were prompt to call themselves allies of Rome, and she stood 
without a rival, leader of the known world. 



PYDNA. 




1 68 B. C. 

N 179 B. C. a new ruler appeared in Macedon. 
Philip died in his fifty-ninth year, broken- 
hearted and disappointed, leaving to his son 
Perseus the consummation of a project he had 
long been brooding over — revenge on Rome. 

The last years of his life had been bitter. 
All Greece seemed to turn against him. Rome 
listened to every complaint from the lips of his 
neighbors and would believe nothing in extenu- 
ation. One humiliation succeeded another, and 
nothing saved him from punishment in 183 but the intercession 
of his younger son Demetrius, who had lived years in Rome as 
hostage for his father's conduct, and who had there become very 
popular with the people and an avowed Roman in sentiment. 
This last cost him his life. Visiting Macedon on a mission for 
the Senate, he was accused by his elder brother Perseus of 
treachery to his country's cause ; a letter from Flaminius was 
urged as evidence against him, and the blinded and embittered 
old king ordered him put to death at once. All too late he 
learned that it was but a vile plot gotten up by Perseus to rid 
himself o L " a dangerous rival. He died in misery, leaving to 
the murderer of an innocent brother the throne of a well-nigh 
ruined kingdom. 

Perseus, black at heart as he was, and dastard and poltroon as 
he turned out to be, was a man of great executive ability. Just 
thirty-one when he ascended the throne, he brought to aid him 
a fine physique, dignified and martial carriage, a habit of com- 
mand and great energy and perseverance, With unlimited faith 
(144) 



CHARACTER OF PERSEUS. 145 

in his ability sooner or later to throw off and keep off the Roman 
yoke, he set vigorously to work at the reorganization of his 
kingdom and his armies. 

For twenty-six years there had been no invasion of Mace- 
donian territory by hostile armies except the raids of the few 
wild races to the north. A new generation of vigorous young 
men had sprung up since Cynoscephalae. The peace provision 
which after that disaster limited the standing army to five 
thousand men was ignored or in some way set aside, and 
Perseus had speedily at his command thirty thousand native 
Macedonians, without taking mercenaries into account, and 
these soldiers, young, hardy, vigorous, were drafted into the 
phalanx and constantly trained and exercised in all martial 
and athletic pursuits. Perseus and his people still believed 
that, properly handled, the phalanx would prove invincible even 
against the legions. Of course all these preparations could not 
escape the jealous eye of Rome, but it was some time before 
matters came to a clash, and war was declared. By that time 
the power of Macedon was double what it had been under 
Philip, and Perseus, if he had half the military ability of his 
father, could prove a most dangerous foe. 

In 197 the treaty of peace between Rome and Macedon pro- 
vided that the latter was " to conclude no foreign alliance with- 
out the previous knowledge of Rome," but Perseus saw fit to 
make alliances with Byzantium, with cities of Bceotia, and with 
those inveterate mischief-makers, the yEtolians. On one side or 
other they had been mixed up in every quarrel that had taken 
place in Northern Greece for years past, and, basing her action 
on these forbidden alliances and on the expulsion by Perseus of 
a Thracian chief who was in alliance with Rome, the now 
mistress of the world for the third time declared war against 
Macedon. 

In the spring of 171 B. C. the Romans landed on the west 
coast as usual, having previously sent a large fleet around into 
the ALgean. Perseus, without allies or ships, stood on the 
defensive in his own kingdom. He had an army of 43,000 men, 
21,000 being phalangites, and 4,000 native cavalry. The rest 
10 



146 PYDNA. 

were mercenaries and of little value except as light troops and 
skirmishers. The Roman forces amounted to over 30,000 
regular troops and some 10,000 in allies. In addition to the 
land forces a powerful fleet of forty vessels of the largest class, 
with 10,000 soldiers destined to take part in sieges should they 
be required, had been placed under the orders of the admiral 
Gaius Lucretius, who was to act in conjunction with the consul 
Publius Licinius Crassus. 

Pushing forward into Thessaly, the advance-guard of the 
Romans met the outposts of Macedon near Larissa, and the 
former were defeated with a very heavy loss in proportion to 
numbers engaged : 2,000 foot and 200 horsemen were killed and 
600 made prisoners. It was a bad day for Crassus, who seems 
to have shown no soldierly spirit whatever, and to have allowed 
himself to be easily beaten. Perseus, knowing well that a vast 
power lay behind the small army advancing upon him, now 
offered terms of peace, hoping that his success might prompt the 
Romans to come to his terms. But Rome never made peace 
when defeated, and Perseus, who had made preparations for a 
defensive war, was so poor a general that now, with every ad- 
vantage, he could not or dare not take the offensive, and both 
armies fell back. 

Meantime the admiral had been doing little better than the 
consul. Rome recalled them both in disgust, and Lucius Hor- 
tensius took command of the fleet, and the new consul, Aulus 
Hostilius, of the army. They proved as worthless as their pre- 
decessors. The discipline of the fleet fell to pieces, and that of 
the army seemed utterly gone. On shore, in Western Macedo- 
nia, on the borders of Illyria, a division under Appius Claudius 
was beaten time and again, and the new consul, while vainly 
striving in a feeble and groping manner to restore discipline in 
his command, made two efforts to penetrate the mountain passes 
between Thessaly and Macedon, was easily repulsed each time 
and, had Philip instead of Perseus been in command in Macedon, 
it is probable that the Romans would have been driven out of 
Greece before reinforcements could reach them. But Perseus 
met every Roman blunder with one as great, and a third general 



^EMILIUS PAULLUS IN COMMAND. 147 

came out and took command, relieving Hostilius. Quintus 
Marcius Philippus arrived in 169; managed by supreme good 
luck to cross the mountains and frighten Perseus into retreating 
on Pydna, burning what ships he had and sinking his treasure. 
But the Roman provisions gave out, and their flight would have 
been a sorry one had not Philippus also had the good luck to 
secure the surrender of the garrison at Tempe, with all their 
stores and supplies, before Perseus could regain his senses and 
the possession of the pass. 

And here Philippus seemed to be chained all through a long 
summer and winter. The Macedonians had strongly fortified 
their line along a little stream that flows into the Thermaic Gulf. 
The road to the north ran along a narrow strip of country be- 
tween a range of mountains and the sea. He had forced his 
way through the pass itself, but could not push ahead without 
having a pitched battle on untried ground, with a force as strong, 
if not stronger, than his own. The one thing he could and 
should have done was to call upon his fleet to sail up the gulf 
to the rear of the Macedonian position, and so attack it simul- 
taneously front and rear. But nothing of the sort was thought 
of, or, at least, carried out, and Rome at last picked out the 
right man, recalled Philippus, and sent thither Lucius ^Emilius 
Paullus, son of the consul who died at Cannae while striving to 
retrieve the blunder of his colleague, Varro. For the second 
time had this noble son of a noble father been elected consul — 
both times on his merits — and now, in his sixtieth year, but still 
hale, vigorous and hearty, this tried and trusted old disciplina- 
rian and soldier came to the front and assumed command. The 
Roman army knew well it had found its master then and there. 
His mere presence restored order and discipline. 

For three years had Perseus been holding Rome at bay. It 
was about the 7th of June, 168 B. C, that the new consul 
arrived. Fifteen days after, on June 2 2d (Julian calendar), 
Pydna was won, and the war was over. 

The first thing he did was enough to show that he was master 
of the situation. The Roman army was intrenched in front of 
Tempe. Behind them lay the pass ; to their right the dancing 



148 PYDNA. 

waters of the Thermaic Gulf; to their left the range of Mount 
Olympus, nearly parallel with the coast ; to their front the nar- 
row strip between the mountains and the sea, along which lay 
the road to Pydna and the heart of Macedon. Some distance 
vp the coast the little river Elpius emptied its waters into the 
S(!a, crossing the path from west to east. Here were fortified the 
lines of Perseus, stretching nearly from the mountains to the 
gulf. Behind him, to his right rear, a narrow pathway led over 
the mountains into the valley of the Eurotas. The consul sent 
Publius Nasica with a strong division up that valley, with orders 
to surprise, if possible, but to seize at all hazards that important 
pass, while he himself pushed forward with the cavalry and light 
troops and kept the enemy busy in front. The plan worked to 
a charm. The pass was seized and held ; the position of Per- 
seus, which he had so laboriously fortified, was " turned," and 
he was compelled to fall back. Pydna, some twenty miles up 
the coast, was his first stopping-place, and there, in front of his 
magazines and stores, with fair open ground for his phalanx, he 
proposed to fight and overthrow the Romans. 

Deliberately as ever the army of ^Emilius marched to within 
convenient distance of the halted enemy. Camp was pitched, 
duly fortified, and the outposts and vanguard were thrown well 
to the front. It is probable that the total force of the Romans 
did not exceed 35,000 men, though accessions of the allies may 
have brought it up to 40,000. The Macedonians had full as 
many and the choice of ground. But vEmilius had been careful 
to pitch his camp upon high ground, with abrupt slopes towards 
the north as protection against possible attack of that formidable 
phalanx, and the precaution was a wise one. It turned the fate 
of battle. 

There was an eclipse of the moon early on the morning of the 
22d, a fact duly foretold by a Roman officer, and announced to 
the whole army, that no superstitious fears might be excited-, 
and along about noon the cavalry videttes and outposts of the 
two armies got into an indiscriminate fight among themselves 
while watering horses at a little stream. From an insignificant 
skirmish among a few score of troopers the affair began to grow 



A GREAT BATTLE BEGINS. 149 

serious. First from one side, then the other, knots of horsemen 
would gallop out to the assistance of their comrades, and the 
linesmen of the phalanx and the legions, who stood for some 
time amused and interested spectators of this unpremeditated 
cavalry combat, began to pick up their spears and shields and 
look around for orders to " fall in." Neither general had in- 
tended to fight a battle on that day. Each had determined on 
giving his army a good night's rest, but the men had been facing 
one another for over a year without any satisfactory encounter, 
were restlessly eager for fight, and as squadron after squadron 
mounted and trotted out to the front to take a hand in the fray, 
and the light infantry and irregulars became involved, both 
camps seemed by simultaneous impulse to spring to arms ; both 
commanders decided that the battle would have to be fought 
then and there. 

Hastily, but in thorough order and with something of their 
old steadiness and discipline, the lines of the legions moved for- 
ward from their camp, down the rugged slopes to the plain be- 
low, and there deployed in order of battle. By this time all the 
light troops, all the cavalry, were heavily engaged out at the 
front; no special manoeuvre or tactical evolution being attempted, 
but each corps, under its own officers, attacking or defending as 
the case might be, fighting without any general directing hand, 
but fighting stubbornly and savagely for all that. 

Beginning in a mere quarrel between the outposts soon after 
noon, swelling in the course of an hour to a general engagement 
between the cavalry and light troops of both armies, the battle 
of Pydna now became of fierce intensity, for the old consul had 
barely had time, riding to and fro bare-headed and unarmored 
among his legions, to straighten his lines and get each division 
in its appropriate place, when the hoarse uproar and clangor at 
the front gave place to shouts of warning — to a new, concerted 
battle-cry, and the irregulars and skirmishers could be seen 
scattering in every direction. The Macedonian cavalry, a splen- 
did body of horse, drew promptly off to one side, and then, 
through the dust and din of battle, extending across the field in 
solid, massive ranks ; bristling with its long, deadly spears, in 



150 PYDNA. 

one huge, human wave, the grand phalanx of Maeedon came 
sweeping over the plain, brushing away everything before it like 
chaff and bearing down steadily upon the silent splendor of the 
legions. In vain the Roman cavalry dashed at its flanks and 
strove to goad them in to turning upon them. In vain running 
slingers and archers showered missiles of every kind upon them. 
Nothing could check their resistless advance. No wonder the 
stout old consul trembled for his legions. Hastily sending orders 
to his cavalry and the light troops to hang upon their, flanks and 
rear — above all, to keep off the Macedonian cavalry, yEmilius 
quickly decides on his next move. There on level ground his 
legions will be powerless against that solid, machine-like attack. 
" Face to the rear," he orders, " and retire." 

Steadily the legions obey. In perfect discipline they move 
southward across the plain, reaching presently the broken and 
irregular ground in front of camp. Meantime the phalanx, 
balked of its expected prey and hoarsely shouting its challenge, 
has quickened its gait. Already it has come a mile or more at 
charging pace over a field heaped with dead or dying steeds and 
riders. Already much disorder is apparent in the ranks, for 
many have stumbled and fallen, and the impenetrable front is 
broken in many places. Now, in their eagerness to overtake 
and bring the legions to battle before they can reach the protec- 
tion of their camp, the men of the phalanx break into a run — 
some officers, knowing disorder to be fatal, strive to restrain 
their commands; others impetuously lead them on; the confusion 
becomes worse. Now the broken ground is reached, and here 
the breaks and gaps grow wider in the lines. Then come the 
slopes up which the legions are composedly marching. With 
taunts and jeers, but breathless now and with all semblance of 
their massive order destroyed, the phalangites rush after and toil 
up the incline; and then, as old ./Emilius watches eagerly with 
shrewd and practised eye, he sees his opportunity. Instantly 
the command rings from his lips ; the trumpeters sound the 
signal along the brazen lines ; the plumed helmets face about ; 
the sun that flashed but an instant before on glittering shields 
now shines on long ranks of brawny backs. The air is black 



THE PHALANX ANNIHILATED. 151 

one instant with the hurtling flight of javelins, then the short 
swords gleam on high, and, down the hill, rushing into every 
gap and opening, easily avoiding the long, unwieldy, spears, 
down leap the stalwart men of the legions. 

Their way checked, their inertia lost, their formation broken; 
their great spears now only in their way, the men of Macedon 
seem to know that all is over with them. Tricked and deluded 
into disorderly pursuit, badly handled by their commanders, the 
phalangites have but one hope of rescue : a charge to their re- 
lief by the entire cavalry of Macedon, now with Perseus, silent 
and distant spectators of the scene ; but their king is craven and 
panic-stricken. He sees well enough the trap into which his 
grand phalanx has been decoyed. He dare not let his horse- 
men go to their rescue. In miserable irresolution he stands a 
few brief moments watching the slow recoil of his shattered 
spearmen, listening to the hoarse chorus of triumphant shouts 
or despairing cries growing each moment nearer and nearer, 
and then he turns and flees to Pydna, and the cavalry follows 
him. Surrounded, hemmed in by merciless foes on every side, 
the once invincible phalanx of Macedon was left to its fate. One 
brief half hour had decided the outcome of the battle, but for 
long hours the work of death went on ; the spearmen died in 
their tracks. It was the last appearance of that world-renowned 
organization on any battle-field of fame, and, as though not car- 
ing to survive its defeat, the soldiers of the select phalanx, 3,000 
, in number, were cut down to a man ; 20,000 dead were left upon 
the field ; 11,000 Were taken prisoners. It was the death-blow 
of Macedon. 

In fifteen days, as has been said, ^milius Paullus fought and 
won that brilliant campaign. In two days more the whole state 
had submitted. The king himself, with something like seven 
millions of dollars in treasure, succeeded in escaping temporarily, 
but only to find himself in a few days deserted by his last asso- 
ciates. Then, without a friend, without a harbor of refuge or an 
asylum left him, he surrendered, cringing and weeping, to his 
contemptuous conquerors. He soon died, a prisoner; his son 
earned an humble living in an Italian country town as a clerk, 



/52 



PYDNA. 



and such was the mournful end of the once superb empire of 
Alexander the Great. Macedon was broken up into four pitiful 
and impoverished states, and from the date of Pydna " the uni- 
versal empire of Rome " was fully established. 




LAST FIGHT OF THE PHALANX. 



PHARSALIA. 



49 B. C. 




HE century that followed Pydna was one of 
incessant warfare for Rome. Ruling the 
world of civilization with a firm and often 
heavy hand, she had enemies in every direc- 
tion. Carthage was maddened by her oppres- 
sion and goaded into the war that ended her 
existence in the year 146 B. C. Then came 
a long and bitter war in Spain, closing with 
the destruction of Numantia in 133. Then 
followed " the revolutionary century " in 
Rome — one hundred years of ceaseless civil strife, beginning 
with the attempted reformation of the Gracchi, and ending only 
with the great naval battle of Actium, which made Octavianus 
Caesar ruler of the Roman world ; and all through these hundred 
years Rome was maintaining large armies abroad, fighting every- 
where, and adding large conquests to her possessions. First 
came the Jugurthine war in Africa (1 18-106), and even while 
this was going on there broke out the bloody and terrible strug- 
gle with the Cimbri and Teutones, in which army after army of 
Romans was defeated and sometimes massacred by these savage 
northern nations, who finally became so elated by their victories 
over the legions as to resolve to invade Italy itself. But here 
they met a general who proved too skillful, and the consul 
Marius terribly punished the Teutones at the battle of Aquae 
Sextise, near where Marseilles now stands, and then joining the 
armies of Rome retreating before the Cimbri, who had already 
forced their way into the valley of the Po, he turned fiercely 
upon the invaders at Campi Randii, and there utterly annihilated 

(153) 



154 PHARSALIA. 

their great force. The historian Livy states that in these two 
battles Marius killed or captured 450,000 men. 

The next great war was with Mithridates, King of Pontus, who 
was strong and daring enough to overrun the Roman provinces 
in Asia and even to invade Greece. Sylla drove him back with 
heavy loss, but in 74 B. C. he again collided with Rome, and but 
for his death by poison would have invaded Italy from the north- 
east, bringing all the warlike nations along the Danube with 
him. At this time the Asiatic conquests of the Romans were 
immense, and extended almost to the shores of the Caspian and 
well down the valley of the Tigris. 

But in 54 B. C. an unlucky name in Roman military history, 
that of Crassus, is again prominent. A century before the con- 
sul of the same name had brought disaster to the national arms 
in the Macedonian war, and now Marcus Crassus, at the head 
of the grand army of the Euphrates, fought and lost a desperate 
battle with the Parthians at Carrhae in Mesopotamia, and, like 
his grand-uncle of the Macedonian campaign, chose a voluntary 
death rather than survive disgrace. As a disaster to Rome Car- 
rhae is ranked with those of Allia River, where in 390 B. C. 
the Gauls overwhelmed her soldiery and then pushed on and 
burned the capital, and with Cannae, where the legions of Varro 
were slaughtered by Hannibal. 

But at the same time that this ill-fated name was dying out, 
no more to be linked with disaster, another name, associated 
ever with valor and victory, was on every Roman tongue. 
Julius Caesar, he who for eight years had been winning distinc- 
tion and triumph at the head of Roman legions in the west — he 
who alone had been able to bring to terms the savage Gauls 
and to subdue the country west of the Rhine and north of the 
Pyrenees — he who had even invaded Britain — Julius Caesar, the 
idol of the Roman soldiery, was now at the head of a large and 
devoted army, and a bitter feud had sprung up between him 
and his colleague Pompey. Civil war was threatened, and as 
the only means of averting such a calamity, it was proposed that 
both Caesar and Pompey should resign their commands and 
retire from public life. This was in 51 B.C. Pompey flatly 
refused, and this determined the action of Caesar. 



CLESAR AND POMPEY. 155 

To a man who had rendered infinite service to the state, and 
possessed of the ambition of Caesar, such a proposition was 
unbearable. He had learned to look upon himself — and friends 
and flatterers had encouraged him so to do — as the one head of 
the Roman people. He would not resign. But Pompey was at 
the capitol, Caesar in the field ; and the Senate decided against 
the absent one. Caesar was commanded to disband his army or 
be considered a public enemy, and Pompey was named com- 
mander-in-chief of the Roman army. 

Caesar was at Ravenna, on the Adriatic, just north of the 
Roman frontier, marked by the little river Rubicon. He refused 
to disband his army ; the Senate declared war, and, prompt to 
accept the issue, Caesar crossed the Rubicon, invaded his native 
land, and in "sixty days was master of all Italy, Pompey and his 
leading men having fled before him and taken refuge in Greece. 
The recognition of Caesar as leader of the Roman people 
seems to have been immediate. He took possession of the 
rich treasury at the capital, raised and equipped a great army, 
conquered the adherents of Pompey in Spain, was named dic- 
tator, but resigned the office for that of consul, and then pre- 
pared to advance upon Pompey himself, who with a large and 
formidable army, backed by the knights and nobility of Rome, 
who hated Caesar, was eagerly awaiting his coming in Greece. 

At this moment Caesar's available force was greatly scattered. 
His great rival had established his camp in Macedonia, and 
thither flocked hundreds of the nobility, hundreds of the officers 
who had escaped from Spain and Italy. They brought with 
them all the habits of effeminacy and luxury that had marked 
their life at the capital. The camp was no longer the scene of 
martial preparation and soldierly exercise. The grandees 
turned their tents into decorated bowers, and the simple cam- 
paign fare into luxurious banquets. Wine flowed day and 
night, and the soldiers who at first looked on in wonderment. 
soon fell into the ways of their lords and eagerly imitated them 
to the extent of their means. Discipline was at low ebb in the. 
camp of Pompey. Worse still, he himself had been for years 
past losing ground in public confidence fast as Caesar had been 



156 PHARSALIA. 

gaining it. Formerly Pompey it was who had been looked 
upon as the general, Caesar only as a subordinate. Now, every- 
where the mistake was recognized ; even those who envied and 
hated him confessed his superior ability, but — among the nobles 
and aristocracy — no one could be named as fit to supersede 
even so poor a commander as Pompey in his decline had 
grown to be, while Caesar, the hero of the people, had dozens at 
his beck and call who were fit to handle armies in the field. In 
his camp all was Spartan simplicity. Food was coarse, but 
nourishing; drink was unknown ; discipline was perfect. Never 
at any time, under any other commander, were the trained sol- 
diers of Rome so prompt to move, so rapid and tireless in their 
march. Courage, obedience and endurance were cardinal vir- 
tues cultivated and rewarded with the utmost care, and in every- 
thing that pertained to the character and the bearing of the 
accomplished soldier Caesar was at once their instructor and 
their example. Nothing but vast superiority in numbers could 
warrant Pompey in hoping for success against troops at once 
so disciplined and so devoted. 

To confront Caesar he had gathered a large but rather a 
mixed array. From Italy he had brought with him, in his 
flight from Brundusium, some 15,000 Roman soldiers. These, 
with the Romans then living in Greece and some Illyrian pris- 
oners of war, were organized into five legions. From Asia 
Minor he succeeded in drafting three more — two being formed 
from what was left of the once grand army of the Euphrates, so 
recently shattered at Carrhse ; the third from the troops that hadj 
been stationed along the southern shore in Cilicia. Two more 
leeions were raised from the Romans in Asia Minor, and one 
from veterans living in Macedonia and northern Greece or the 
neighboring isles ; making in all eleven legions, only five of 
which, however, were at the time skilled and exercised in the 
duties of the Roman soldier. Some 2,000 volunteers were 
added from the old Spanish army ; and the natives were called 
upon to furnish contingents to guard and garrison the coast. In 
addition to the disciplined velites of the legions, Pompey had 
3,000 archers and about half that number of slingers who served 
as irregulars. 



THE OPPOSING FORCES. 157 

For cavalry he was well provided — not with native Romans, 
to be sure, except a small but disorderly noble guard, formed by 
the young knights and nobles who had swarmed to his camp, 
but with well-mounted and well-equipped Celts, Thracians and 
Cappadocians, and mounted archers from Asia, in all some 
7,000 horse. 

In addition to his land force, Pompey had a fine fleet of 500 
vessels, and almost unlimited supplies of money, for he was sup- 
ported by the wealth and by the nobles of the vast empire of 
Rome. Prompt and regular payment of the soldiery secured 
their good will ; the veteran battalions were accorded certain dis- 
tinctions and privileges which promoted their spirit and alle- 
giance to their general ; so that, altogether, the army of Pompey 
was in excellent temper, despite the lack of instruction and dis • 
cipline observable in at least two-thirds of its number. 

In anticipation of the coming of Caesar, the fleet was stationed 
along the coast of Epirus and Southern Illyria ; the local troops 
were strengthened at the important harbors and possible landing- 
places, and the army of Pompey was put in march from its camp 
in Southern Macedonia across the peninsula to the western 
shore. To reach them Caesar had one of two courses open to 
him : to embark his troops at Brundusium and sail across the 
Adriatic, or to follow the land route around the head of that 
gulf and down through the wild regions of Illyria. There were 
grave objections to both. In the first place he had no navy at 
all that was worthy the name ; his transports were very few in 
number, and the new war-vessels he had promptly ordered built 
were nowhere near ready. He had only ships enough to carry 
his army over in detachments, and to attempt this in the face of 
the great fleet of Pompey was foolhardy. Even were he to suc- 
ceed in slipping through their blockading squadrons and landing 
upon the coast of Epirus, he was then in imminent danger of 
being pounced upon by vastly superior forces and beaten in 
detail. On the other hand, the march around the shores of the 
Adriatic was really the shorter route for his tried legions now 
returning from Spain ; but besides the difficulties and hardships 
to be expected in that half-savage and almost unknown eastern 



158 PHARSALIA. 

shore, there was the grave military objection that in taking this 
route he " uncovered " Rome. 

If his army were to march "Vay around by land, what was to 
prevent Pompey's embarkirg his entire force on his 500 vessels 
and simply ferrying them across the narrow Adriatic, and land- 
ing in Southern Italy ? The question was a grave one, and was 
.Solved in his characteristic way. Pompey was slow, heavy 
methodical ; Caesar was quick as a spring. The army of the 
former was, by slow marches, making its plodding way across 
from Thessalonica and the camp at Berrcea. Some of the , 
legions were even yet east of the Hellespont, trudging in from 
Cilicia. The fleet was there along the shore, and to them in 
serene confidence Pompey had confided the care of the coast ; 
but Pompey had allowed his personal jealousy of Cato to 
prompt the terrible blunder of relieving him from supreme com- 
mand in the navy, and placing in his stead a most incompetent 
man, Marcus Bibulus. 

One day early in November, 49 B. C. (or, by the Roman cal- 
endar, early in January, 48), the lookouts at the headquarters of 
the Pompeian fleet, on the northern end of the island of Corcyra, 
dimly made out, far to the north, a large number of sail head- 
ing in for the coast of Epirus. Bibulus was duly notified, but 
for some utterly incomprehensible reason was not ready to put 
to sea. He had a small fleet of eighteen vessels in the bay of 
Oricum, very near the point towards which the strange flotilla 
was heading. They saw what was coming plainly enough, and 
very discreetly kept out of the way. Julius Caesar, with only 
six legions, reduced by toil and hard marching and fighting to 
only about half their proper strength, with only six hundred 
horsemen, had seized every ship on which he could lay hand, 
and daringly, almost desperately, set sail into the very fastness 
of the opposing fleet. Nothing but absolute contempt for an 
enemy's ability could justify so foolhardy a risk ; but Caesar 
seems to have known his man. Delay would simply complicate 
matters, and — success always succeeds. The audacity of his 
course paralyzed Bibulus. The landing was accomplished in 
safety ; the ships went back for more troops, and then, sudden as 



MARK ANTONY TO THE RESCUE. 159 

the swoop of falcon, Caesar dashed upon the seaports of Oricum 
and Apollonia, and threatened the great arsenals and depots of 
Dyrrhachium farther up the coast. The first blow of the cam- 
paign which was to determine the mastery of Rome was struck 
— and it was a thunderbolt to Pompey. 

Now, indeed, he rallied every energy. Even Bibulus seemed 
to wake up. Dyrrhachium was rescued just in time, Pompey 
himself rushing forward with the leading legions and seizing the 
citadel. Bibulus and his fleet gave chase to the returning ships 
of Caesar, captured and burned thirty of them, crews and all; 
then blockaded Brundusium and the Italian coast, and now, in- 
deed, Caesar was in a critical position. No reinforcements could 
reach him. Supplies would soon be exhausted, and he had 
barely 20,000 men with which to defend himself against twice 
that many. 

But Pompey dare not attack. Intrenching his army between 
Apollonia and Dyrrhachium, he preferred waiting till the legions 
from the east could reach him, relying upon his fleet to prevent 
reinforcements from reaching Caesar. Once again, however, his 
fleet failed him, and Caesar's devoted friend, Marcus Antonius, 
with four legions and 800 cavalry, aided by a strong wind, 
slipped across the Adriatic, though chased every inch of the way, 
landed above Pompey's position and, with supreme energy and 
good luck, succeeded in marching around him and joining 
Caesar. 

And now followed a series of sharp and serious encounters 
and manoeuvres in which, at last, Caesar was decidedly crippled, 
while Pompey still retained possession of his depots of supply 
and all lines of communication. Caesar's fleet had disappeared 
from the waters, and his condition was desperate. He could 
not get back to Italy. He could not shake the position of 
Pompey, who coolly fought on the defensive, relying on the 
prospect of speedily wearing out his antagonist. There was but 
one course for the indomitable conqueror of Gaul. He left his 
wounded and ineffectives at Apollonia and boldly plunged east- 
ward into Thessaly, dashing upon city after city, seizing all the 
supplies he needed, richly repaying his army for the hardships 
they had undergone, and daring Pompey to follow him, 



160 PHARSALIA. 

By every law of strategy the latter should now have crossed 
at once to Italy and made himself master at home, as he could 
readily have done. But he and his nobles were by this time in- 
flamed with such hatred against Csesar, that nothing but his de- 
struction would satisfy them, and Pompey turned eastward in 
pursuit. 

Out on the broad Thessalian plain, not more than ten miles 
straight away from the ridge of Cynoscephalae, lay the little town 
of Pharsalus or Pharsalia, now called Fersala. It is perhaps 
twenty-one miles a little west of south from the site of old 
Larissa. From the mountain range of Othrys there flowed, in 
those days and still flows, northward towards Cynoscephalae, a 
shallow, placid stream, almost dry in midsummer, only two feet 
deep at other times, and never rapid or dangerous. It was 
called the Enipeus, and about two or three miles northeast of 
Pharsalia it joined the broader waters of the Apidanus, and with 
them swept around Pharsalia at a distance still of three miles, 
and rolled away northwestward to join the river of the broad 
valley — the Peneius. Just north of Pharsalia the united waters 
were too broad and deep, the banks too steep for easy crossing, 
but, by going around above their point of confluence, both the 
Enipeus and the Apidanus could be bridged or even forded with 
comparative ease. 

The entire army of Pompey had united at Larissa, made an 
easy day's march down past Cynoscephalae, and camped on the 
northern or right bank of the Apidanus, along the slopes up 
towards Scotussa and the famous battle-field of Flaminius and 
Philip, a century and a half before. A far more decisive and 
desperate battle was now to be fought in the same neighborhood, 
for here, on the plain of Thessaly, on a hot, dry summer's day, 
far away from Italy, the mastership of the Roman empire was to 
be settled. Two old allies, father and son-in-law in bygone 
days, but now powerful and bitter enemies, were to grapple for 
the dominion of the world. 

The army of Pompey comprised eleven legions (47,000 in- 
fantry) and 7,000 horse. Caesar had but eight legions, so re- 
duced by hard service that, all told, he could muster but 22,000 






IK 



v ' - : -' 

fiPlifw M' 






\\ iiilSl 



III 




C^SAR ON THE DEFENSIVE. 161 

men, and of these only i,000 were cavalry. The soldiers of 
Pompey were well fed, well supplied ; those of Caesar were gaunt 
and hungry. In every way the chances of war were with 
the former, and the recent revival of his once trusted military 
genius (as shown in the struggle in Epirus which had so baffled 
Caesar) had restored to him the confidence of his troops. 

Knowing that he had everything at stake and the odds against 
him, Caesar hoped to fight on the defensive and force Pompey to 
attack him on his own ground, southwest of the Enipeus ; but 
for some time Pompey delayed. At last, however, on the 9th 
of August, 48 B. C, his army was seen marching out of camp, 
crossing the Apidanus, some four miles away from Pharsalia, 
then turning towards the shallow Enipeus ; and Caesar, facing 
eastward, with Pharsalia at his back, his left wing in the broken, 
hilly ground south of the Apidanus, his right wing well out on 
the plain, stood ready to meet him. 

Facing west and deploying along the Enipeus, Pompey slowly 
and cautiously crossed that little stream and moved out upon 
the plain, resting his right wing upon the Apidanus. Caesar's 
poverty in cavalry had suggested to him the capital plan of 
keeping back his infantry, but of making a grand dash with his 
overwhelming force of horsemen and scattering the little band 
on Caesar's exposed right flank, sweeping around it, and attack- 
ing him front and rear at the same time. But Caesar did not 
propose to allow him any such simple solution of the battle 
problem. No sooner were the legions well across the Enipeus 
with their leading lines, than those of Caesar came gallantly for- 
ward to meet them. 

The attack was determined and even desperate, but the best 
legions of Pompey's army happened to be the ones on whom it 
fell, and the contestants, in point of valor, were equally matched, 
while numbers were against Caesar. Little by little his scarred 
and wearied soldiers were forced back by the lines of Pompey, 
and the battle in the centre dragged heavily, with little promise 
of anything better than a protracted and stubborn duel that 
would last till dark ; but on Caesar's right his little band of 
horsemen and intermingled light troops, after a brave and 



162 PHARSALIA. 

spirited resistance, were completely swept away by four times 
their force in heavy cavalry ; and Pompey saw with delight that 
while in the centre his legions were holding their own, the right 
of Caesar's infantry was now uncovered, and, just as soon as 
Labienus with the " heavies " could return from pursuit, he felt 
sure that their wild charge upon the right and rear of the veter- 
ans before him would utterly break their formation, and then the 
day would be his. 

But Caesar well knew his adversary and had planned a coun- 
ter-trap. Counting upon the defeat of his inferior cavalry on 
the right, and knowing how ardent and disorderly would be the 
pursuit, he had stationed some distance back of his right, and 
concealed by the low ridges across the plain, a picked body of 
2,000 of his oldest, most reliable soldiers, men of the legions 
who had followed him in Spain and Gallia. Telling them to 
expect the rush of the Pompeian cavalry, he ordered them not 
to throw the javelin but to retain it, to dash in among the horse- 
men and to vigorously thrust at their faces with the spear. An 
attack from infantry was the last thing Labienus looked for. 
His men were utterly astounded by the impetuous onslaught. 
They fought confusedly a few moments, but their leaders seem 
to have been surrounded and picked off, or some strange panic 
to have seized them, for all of a sudden, to the utter dismay of 
Pompey, his cavalry came tearing back, and never rallying at all, 
plunged into the shallow waters of the Enipeus, across to the 
opposite bank, and away over the low hills toward Scotussa. 
Then the veteran legionaries, jubilant over their phenomenal 
success over the cavalry, but steadily keeping their ranks, swept 
down upon Pompey 's Asiatic archers, easily brushed them out 
of the way and, with triumphant shout, broke in upon his now 
uncovered and well-nigh exhausted left wing. Caesar's slowly 
retiring centre halted and, reanimated by the success of their 
comrades, resumed their efforts against the enemy, and at this 
moment Caesar launched in his fresh and impatient reserve. 

Despite his overwhelming numbers, it was all over with Pom- 
pey. He had never had much faith in his legions as compared 
with those of Caesar. His main reliance had been the cavalry, 



POMPEY UTTERLY ROUTED. Ig3 

and when they broke and left him, he himself in despair quitted 
the field. His friends claimed that he rushed to rally the fleeing 
horsemen. Historians assert that he fled to his camp. Which- 
ever it may be, there was no directing head when Caesar's grand 
general attack crashed in upon the Pompeian lines, and the 
legions, disheartened and deserted, fell back in some disorder, 
sustaining severe loss as they crossed the stream ; and Pompey, 
noting their defeat from a distant point, tore from his shoulders 
the badge of his office, the general's scarf he no longer dared to 
wear, and spurred for the sea-coast. His army was still strong 
enough, properly led and handled, to beat Caesar, but he had 
lost his nerve. 

As for Caesar, he well knew how to strike when the iron was 
hot and to reap the fruits of victory. Eagerly, persistently he 
urged forward the pursuit, striking everywhere. The camp 
guard was quickly overthrown ; every attempt to rally checked 
by impetuous dash ; for miles his legions chased the rapidly 
falling foe, and when the sun went down behind the range of 
Pindus, for miles in every direction, the broad, rolling prairie 
land of Thessaly was covered with the dead and dying of Pom- 
pey's broken host. Pharsalia meant not only its defeat, but its 
practical annihilation. Fifteen thousand of that host were killed 
or wounded, while Caesar had lost but 200 men, and the morn- 
ing after the battle the 20,000 Pompeians, who still had managed 
to hold together, laid down their arms. Out of eleven legions 
the eagles of nine were surrendered to Caesar. 

As to the immediate consequences of Pharsalia, it is recorded 
that to put an end once and for all to this disastrous civil war 
the victor deemed it necessary to resort to extreme measures 
with the leaders. Many senators, knights and men of prom- 
inence in Roman affairs were captured with the remnants of 
Pompey's army. These, almost all, were put to death. Others 
suffered heavy fine or confiscation of property. Minor officers 
. and soldiers were distributed throughout the army and required 
to take service under the victorious eagles of Caesar, a thing no 
one of them seemed to be averse to. 

But the political consequences of this great and decisive vie- 



[(34 PHARSALIA. 

tory were far-reaching. All the kings, all principalities, all 
nations and cities subject to Roman rule, fast as the news 
reached them of the overthrow of Pompey, were prompt to 
tender their allegiance to the conqueror of Gaul, the now ac- 
knowledged leader of the great nation. Most of them denied 
refuge to the exiles and wanderers who strove to find escape 
from the dreaded punishment of Caesar. From the Atlantic to 
the Euphrates the name of Julius Caesar knew no rival. 

Pompey fled to Egypt, where, on the instant of his arrival, he 
was assassinated by one of his former officers. Cato, Scipio 
and others of his generals succeeded in reaching Africa and in 
stirring up a powerful rebellion against the rule of Caesar, but, 
never thinking of returning to Rome until he had put down the 
last vestige of revolt, that daring and energetic soldier followed 
at their heels, and the terrible battle of Thapsus, which cost them 
50,000 souls, ended their last efforts. Losing only fifty men, 
Caesar had slain a thousand for one. Cato killed himself in 
despair, and the conqueror of every nation that had yet opposed 
him, including his own, returned in triumph to the capital to be 
named dictator for life. 

Yet within two years of his last victory at Thapsus, Caius 
Julius Caesar, " Caesar Imperator," the greatest soldier and hero 
ever brought forth even by martial Rome, died in the very height 
of his power, in the vigor of his ambitious life, the victim of a 
score of high-born assassins. 



PHILIPPI. 



42 B. C. 




HE assassination of Julius Caesar led to a re- 
newed outbreak of civil war. Brutus, Cassius, 
Trebonius, Cimber and Casca, who were 
leaders in the conspiracy against him, claimed 
to be striving in the interests of a thoroughly 
republican form of government. Caesar's 
announcement of his determination to lead 
an army into Parthia to avenge the death of 
Crassus and the disaster of Carrhae, carried 
with it, they asserted, a decided intention of the imperator to 
assume the title of king. " Caesar was ambitious" was the cry 
against him ; but such was his hold on the Roman people that 
only by foul means could his downfall be secured. 

Occurring as the assassination did in the very height of his 
popularity with the people of Rome, and so soon after he had 
been named dictator for life, the effect produced throughout the 
entire world, as known to historians of the day, was something 
indescribable. Caesar had only reached his fifty-seventh year ; 
the maladies which had marked his early youth had disappeared; 
his life was so rugged with ceaseless campaigning that there was 
every promise of years of vigorous health and usefulness to 
come. The greatest soldier of his great nation, and one of the 
most polished scholars and gentlemen of his day, Caesar was 
revered -and honored throughout the army, and was respected 
and perhaps feared by all classes. 

The turbulent populace had long been eager for an excuse for 
outbreak. It now was furnished them. To have been a devoted 
adherent of the dead hero was sufficient claim for any man to 

_ ^^ (165) 



166 PHILIPPI. 

demand their adherence now, and Mark Antony was shrewd 
enough to seize the opportunity. 

Despite the efforts of such statesmen and orators (if there 
were orators like him) as Cicero, the people overleaped all 
bounds j wild scenes of tumult and disorder took place. Antony, 
by virtue of having been Caesar's faithful friend, was now upheld 
as his representative, and speedily took upon himself the rights, 
though he possessed not the authority, of dictator. Caesar had 
made certain assignments of prominent Romans to the govern- 
orships of the provinces, and these Antony proceeded to carry 
out, thus ridding the capital at least of some of his heartiest op- 
ponents. The Senate, in order to avert possible civil war, had 
accepted the advice of Cicero. The assassins were to be left to 
the judgment of posterity. Amnesty was declared. Trebonius 
was sent to govern the provinces in Asia; Cimber to Bithynia; 
Marcus Brutus to Macedonia, and Cassius to Syria, and in this 
way, though it drove them from Rome, vast power was to be 
placed in the hands of the republican leaders. But here Antony 
interposed. These assignments had been the projects of Caesar 
and were ratified by the Senate, but Brutus and Cassius were per- 
sonally and politically his enemies. Before the expiration of their 
terms of office as praetors at home Brutus and Cassius found 
themselves supplanted. Antony declared that he acted for Caesar 
in revoking their appointments and sending his colleague, Dol- 
abella, to Syria while he took Macedonia himself. 

Then a new popular hero appeared. Caesar had adopted 
young Caius Octavius as his son, and this youth, now barely 
nineteen years of age, had been serving with the legions in 
Greece ; had endeared himself to the soldiers by manly bearing, 
and, urged by them and his mother's letters, he hurried back to 
Italy and assumed his full name, now legally his own, Caius 
Julius Caesar Octavianus. This was the boy who was destined, 
a few years later, to triumph over all opponents, and by skill, 
daring and address to work his way up to the throne of the 
proudest nation on the face of the globe, to be hailed every- 
where as its first, perhaps its greatest emperor, Augustus Caesar. 

Antony had not looked for the coming of this eager strip- 



CAIUS OCTAVIUS APPEARS. 167 

ling. He was amazed at the tact and energy the young soldier 
displayed. The army took to him at once. Cicero, the orator 
and statesman, Antony's most bitter enemy, hastened to his 
support. Five legions " declared " for Octavianus, and pro- 
nouncing him a rebel, Antony had to take the field against him. 
Two new consuls, Hirtius and Pansa, came into office and were 
sent with their armies to reinforce Octavius, for now, urged by 
the eloquence of Cicero, the Senate, too, had come to his sup- 
port. Antony became the rebel. Sharp actions were fought 
near Mutina, and by strange fatality both the new consuls were 
killed. The advantage for the time seemed decidedly with 
Antony, who presently appeared at the head of twenty-three 
legions, and the Senate was in consternation. 

In dread of Antony their first move was to repudiate Octavius 
and forbid his coming within ninety miles of Rome, but the 
young soldier was worthy of his name and his adoption ; he had 
all the spirit and dash of the dead Caesar. With eight legions 
he crossed the Rubicon and reached the gates of Rome, and the 
Senate cringed before him while the people hastily assembled 
and elected him consul. He was less than twenty years old, by 
just one day, at the moment of his election to this high office. 

Being now at the head of the state, Octavius sent propositions 
of peace to Antony and Lepidus which were promptly accepted. 
The decrees of the Senate against them were annulled. The 
murderers of Caesar, it was arranged, should be brought to trial, 
I and, as joint rulers of Rome, " the Caesarean leaders," as they 
were called, Antony, Lepidus and Octavius, formed the cele- 
brated "Second Triumvirate" in the year 43 B. C. 

Brutus and Cassius were now ruling in the eastern provinces. 
Only a few months before, the Senate was praying for their 
return with troops to annihilate both Antony and Octavius. 
Now, war was declared against them — the last leaders of the 
republican party. Their career in the East had been discredit- 
able in the last degree, and they had violently quarrelled when 
meeting at Sardis. Brutus had pe/mitted the burning and pil- 
lage of Xanthus, whose people preferred to throw themselves 
into the flames rather than fall into the hands of his soldiers. 



163 PHILIPPI. 

Cassius had attacked Rhodes, demanded a fine of 8,500 talents, 
and enforced its payment by beheading fifty prominent citizens. 
There was every evidence in the armies of both these leaders of 
utter license, debauchery and cold-blooded cruelty as well as 
insubordination. 

On the other hand, before taking the field against these pow- 
erful political generals, the Triumvirate made itself a black 
record in the so-called " proscription." They dared leave no 
powerful enemies at home. Each of the three prepared a list 
of the citizens most inimical to him. Even near relatives were 
included, and then occurred a series of cold-blooded assassina- 
tions that are horrible in their details. Even the grand old 
statesman and orator, Cicero, he " who so often had saved the 
state," sick and prostrate on his litter, was overtaken, and, while 
he calmly bared his throat and looked his conscience-stricken 
executioner in the eye, received his savage death-wounds. His 
venerable head and those of the scores of proscribed who failed 
to make their escape were borne to the capitol, and then the 
Triumvirate went forth to war. 

Knowing well their coming, Brutus and Cassius, with a large 
army of one hundred thousand men, well used to war, as every- 
body seems to have been in those days, awaited them near Phil- 
ippi. The position was one most favorable for defence. The 
mountains (Pangaeus, which separated them from Thrace as they 
stood at the eastern end of Macedonia) came down almost to 
the sea-shore ; the foothills were sharp and abrupt — easily for- 
tified, and the ^Egean, bearing their many ships, lay close upon 
their left. All their supplies came to them by sea, and protected 
by its waters and their ready fleet from the possibility of being 
" turned " in their southern or left flank, and resting their right 
on the mountains themselves, Brutus and Cassius felt secure. 
Their lines were just about twelve miles east of Philippi. 

But Brutus had been educated mainly in Athens, was a Stoic, 
a dreamer, and a believer in omens. History tells of a terrible 
vision appearing to him just before the campaign, pronounced 
itself his evil demon, declared its intention of confronting him 
again at Philippi. Shakespeare makes the vision the ghost of 



THE VISION OF BRUTUS. 169 

Caesar himself, but whatever it was, the creature of a disordered 
brain or an avenging conscience, it ruined the nerve of Brutus. 
He confided his dread and premonitions to Cassius, and it is 
probable that when that vision reappeared, as it is said to have 
done, a night or two before the battle, Brutus was doubly con- 
vinced that death was near. 

Here at Philippi the army of the Triumvirate speedily estab- 
lished its camp. Much more formidable in numbers and dis- 
cipline than that of the republicans, it had made a long and 
toilsome march and was well-nigh destitute of provisions. 
Antony, nearest the sea, and commanding the right wing, faced 
the army of Cassius ; Octavius, with the left wing, confronted 
that of Brutus. It was the month of November in the year 42 
B. C. that the last blow for the Roman republic was to be struck. 
Cassius, shrewd, cautious, calculating, saw that with their lack 
of provisions the enemy would be most harassed by delaying the 
combat, but Brutus was desperate — determined to risk all on a 
single throw, and to do it at once. It was he who precipitated 
the battle of Philippi. 

A singular misfortune had occurred to Octavius just at this 
crisis, one that for a time threatened to becloud his reputation as 
a soldier. A battle was imminent ; he was taken sick and had 
to be removed some distance to the rear, and Brutus had ordered 
a general attack with his wing just at the moment when the army 
in front of him had been deprived of its leader. 

Of the actual phases, the movements and changes of the bat- 
tle of Philippi, no detailed accounts have reached us. The wing 
of Brutus, charging with great impetuosity, seems to have utterly 
overthrown that of the now absent Octavius, and to have driven 
it back in confusion and dismay. But, while he was winning 
this great success, and perhaps beginning to take heart and 
believe that the evil demon of his vision was but an empty 
dream after all, Mark Antony on the other flank had charged, 
utterly overwhelmed Cassius, and sent the republican left wing 
whirling from the field. Cassius himself, driven even beyond his 
camp, was left almost alone in the rout that followed. He could 
not rally his men. He was deserted by most of his officers, and 



170 PHILIPPI. 

suddenly catching sight of a band of horsemen eagerly spurring 
towards him, and believing them to be enemies in search of him, 
the prime mover of the murder of Caesar threw himself upon the 
sword of an attendant. The horsemen, to escape whom he had 
killed himself, proved to be a joyous party sent by Brutus to 
announce that the battle was won. 

So it was, in front of Brutus. But the soldiers of the self- 
slaughtered Cassius had scattered into the mountains, whither 
the legions of Antony could not follow them, and he, learning 
of the disaster to the Roman left, could only recall his troops 
and fall back to re-establish their front. The first day of Philippi 
was at an end. 

The death of Cassius proved a terrible blow to the hopes of 
the republican leaders. He was able to lead and control his 
soldiers, but Brutus, though successful in action, was the slave 
of his men. Victorious in the first day's fight, and speedily 
made aware that the army of the Triumvirate was suffering for 
supplies and badly shattered, he was unable to take advantage 
of the situation. His soldiers almost mutinied. They demanded 
that he should at once open the treasure-chests, and pay out to 
them large sums in money or they would desert in a body to 
the enemy. The sums they demanded were paid, and then they 
redoubled their demands. Then the prisoners were turned over 
to their cruelty, and finally Brutus was compelled to promise 
them the plunder of the city of Thessalonica as the price of their 
loyalty. In this way, for twenty days more, he kept them to- 
gether, and then Octavius reappeared, was received with accla-j 
mations by his men, an immediate battle was the result, and on 
this, the second day of Philippi, the Triumvirate held its own ; 
the legions of Brutus were forced back to the camp after desper- 
ate fighting, and though he with four legions held their ground 
for the night on the foothills back of camp, when morning 
dawned they refused to fight and Brutus was defenceless ; the 
evil demon of his vision had indeed met him at Philippi, and 
Brutus threw himself upon his own sword. 

Philippi was the end of the great Roman republic. 

And now Octavius returned to Rome and became ruler of all 



SUICIDE OF ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 171 

the west. Antony preferred the luxury and wealth to be found 
in the Asiatic provinces, and so decided to remain there. It 
was while in Cilicia that he summoned before him for trial 
Cleopatra, the renowned Queen of Egypt, who stood accused of 
conspiring with Cassius against the Triumvirate. She came 
fearlessly, sailing up the Cydnus in her marvellous barge " with 
purple sails and silver oars," surrounded by all the beauty and 
witchery of her court ; she herself outrivalling all in physical 
charms and in mental powers. She was summoned to sentence 
but she came to conquer, and Antony fell a victim at the first 
interview. Here began his downfall. 

Rivalry of an intense nature had already sprung up between 
him and Octavius. For five years a hollow pretence of alliance 
was kept up between them, and Antony had for a time to appear 
at Rome, but speedily returned to the east and Cleopatra, who 
had completely ensnared him. In 36 B. C, Lepidus, dissatisfied 
with the small share he received in the distribution of provinces, 
ventured to make war on Octavius, and was easily overthrown. 
Then Antony made a terrible failure of the war with the Par- 
thians, and exasperated Rome by hurrying back to his Egyptian 
mistress, and deserting his noble-born wife, Octavia. Open 
rupture was announced between Octavius and himself. Antony 
was denounced as an enemy to the commonwealth, and the 
betrayal of his will to Octavius enabled the latter to convince 
the Senate and the people that, aided by the powerful navy of 
Cleopatra, the "renegade imperator" proposed to conquer 
Rome, remove the capital to Alexandria, and make his enchant- 
ress mistress of the world. The war that instantly broke out 
was short and sharp, terminated by the great naval battle of Ac- 
tium on September 2d, 31 B. C. Antony and Cleopatra fled in 
disgrace, speedily dying self-inflicted deaths ; and Octavius was 
left sole ruler of Rome and all that was Roman. Founder of 
the empire, he now became Augustus Csesar. 



CHALONS. 



451 A. D. 




IIE Christian era opened with a terrible hu- 
miliation for Rome. Oppressed and bur- 
dened beyond endurance, the Germans rose 
against her, and in a most bloody and de- 
cisive battle the legions of Varus were com- 
pletely annihilated by the hordes of Ar- 
minius, in the thick forests still known as 
the Teutobergerwald. The Romans were 
surrounded and slowly slaughtered, and, from 
a military standpoint, the battle can only be 
described as a massacre. 

In the year 43 Rome began the conquest of Britain, and at 
the same time kept up her vast armies in Asia, destroying Jeru- 
salem in 70, and then, while Trajan was emperor, extending her 
conquests away beyond the Euphrates. A century later she 
fought a long and desperate war against the. Germans, finally 
subduing them. In the year 250 her provinces were invaded by 
the Goths, and civil and foreign wars were incessantly sappingj 
her strength. The first Christian emperor, Constantine, re- 
united the empire in 324, and moved the capital, the seat of the 
Roman empire, to Constantinople, in 330. Then, in 395, came 
the revolt of the Goths, and, in 410, the capture of Rome itself, 
by Alaric. 

Battle after battle was fought in these four centuries, but space 

limits us to the description of those presenting notable military 

or historical features, and thus we are brought to the year 451 

and "The battle of the people," at Chalons-sur-Marne, France. 

Rome had virtually finished her work of receiving and trans- 

(172) 







THE HUNS. {A. De Neuville.) 



CHARACTER OF ATTILA. 173 

mitting the civilization of Greece, and under her protection the 
Christian religion was now recognized throughout her provinces, 
but Rome herself was on the decline. By the middle of the 
fifth century Germanic nations had settled the Roman provinces 
north of the Mediterranean. The Visigoths held northern Spain 
and all France below the Loire ; the Suevi, southern Spain ; the 
Burgundians, Franks, Alemanni and Alans, other portions of 
Gaul; the Ostrogoths, the country just to the north of Italy; 
and of all these the Visigoths, under King Theodoric, were the 
foremost in power and civilization. 

Against them came the Huns — a race wild, savage and appa- 
rently countless, that swept into Europe from the East about 
the year 375, and conquered everything before them until they 
reached the thickly populated tracts of Western Europe. Roman 
armies even tried to check them and were overwhelmed. Tribes 
and cities went down before them, and now, with Hungary as 
their seat of government, and with their renowned leader, Attila, 
at their head, they threatened to sweep the Germanic nations 
into the sea. 

Attila is described by historians as a man of unusual power 
and influence. Hideously ugly in person, he had nevertheless 
unbounded command over friends and foes, and the military 
skill of Alexander. He was austere, sober, just and deliberate, 
gave protection to all subjects and a war of extermination to all 
who resisted him. His soldiers followed him as they would a 
god. He called himself "Attila, Descendant of the Great Nim- 
rod. Nurtured in Engaddi. By the Grace of God, King of the 
Huns, the Goths, the Danes, and the Medes. The dread of the 
World." He ruled the immense country north of the Danube ; 
the Black Sea, east of the Caucasus, and in 445 he founded the 
city of Buda, on the Danube, as his capital. 

Rome was greatly alarmed at his wonderful march of con- 
quest westward, and strove to form a stronger alliance with the 
Germanic tribes against him. The Visigoths under King Theo- 
doric were quick to respond. Attila had just completed the 
punishment of some of the Eastern Roman provinces for a rebel- 
lion against him, said to have been inspired at Constantinople ; 



j 74 CHALONS. 

and now, in 450 A. D., he only needed a pretense to make war 
on Western Europe. It soon came. Honoria, sister of Valen- 
tinian, Emperor of the West, sent, offering to marry him. The 
offer was probably inspired by hatred of her brother and some 
of her people, but it was discovered, and she was imprisoned 
and closely guarded. Attila announced his determination of 
compelling Rome to free his intended bride ; and, securing the 
allegiance of the Franks on the lower Rhine, he marched west- 
ward, crossed the river near Coblentz with a total strength of 
700,000 fighting men, met and badly whipped the Burgundians, 
who strove to make a stand against him, and was speedily in 
France. 

Sending a strong column northwest to destroy the cities and 
subdue the people in Northern Gaul, he himself, with the main 
army, pushed up the valley of the Moselle toward the southwest, 
destroying the towns of the Burgundians ; and Eastern Gaul 
being thus speedily brought to terms, he prepared to move west- 
ward, cross the river Loire, and descend upon the Gothic terri- 
tory toward the Bay of Biscay. 

In his way, however, stood the fortified city of Orleans, on 
the right bank of the Loire, and here at last he met vigorous re- 
sistance. All along the stream, too, his attempts to cross were 
frustrated by the energy of the Roman general, Aetius, and his 
ally, King Theodoric, who were also busily recruiting their 
armies to make a stand against the Huns. Aetius spared no 
able-bodied man. All were forced to enlist under the Roman 
standard, and Theodoric, for his part, was no less active. Orleans 
bravely held out, and, before he could prevent it, Attila found 
that Aetius and Theodoric were united and marching north- 
ward against him with an army as great as his entire force, now 
much scattered. 

Quickly he abandoned the siege, fell back to Chalons, on the 
Marne, and called in his outlying troops, and on the broad, open 
plain, near where the little villages of Chape and Cuperly now 
stand, he built a great intrenchment to surround his camp, and 
confidently awaited the coming of the southern allies. It was, 
of all others, the very place where his strongest arm, the cavalry, 
would be most effective, 



A BLOODY CONFLICT BEGINS. 175 

The grand army of allied Romans and Visigoths speedily 
made its appearance. By this time it was probably much larger 
than that of Attila. Aetius with the legions held the right; 
Theodoric the left ; and the centre, which was somewhat ad- 
vanced, was placed under the King of the Alans, Sangipan by 
name, who was suspected by both Theodoric and Aetius of being 
lukewarm to the cause. Opposite them were ranged the wild 
forces of Attila ; he himself commanding his centre, while the 
Ostrogoths and other conquered subjects were placed on the 
flanks. Roman Aetius was a veteran soldier, and well knowing 
the importance of seizing any rising ground as a protection 
against cavalry attack, he had skillfully managed to secure and 
hold some abrupt slopes that really overlooked, if not com- 
manded, the left flank of the Huns — a fact that, most unaccount- 
ably, Attila had not properly appreciated. History is very silent 
about the affair, but it is a fair presumption that he had directed 
its occupation and that the order was not promptly obeyed. At 
all events, he appears to have been enraged at the discovery of 
its occupation by the Romans, and the battle began there on the 
instant. 

So determined was Attila to recover at once the advantage 
the position on the slopes would give him, that he detached 
some of the best troops from his centre and launched them in 
with his entire left in a furious assault on the Roman lines along 
the crest. A bloody and determined conflict began, the Huns 
fighting up-hill with wild enthusiasm and confidence, but falling 
like sheep before the heavily armored ranks of the legions. 
When fully a third of their number were killed or wounded and 
the ground was fairly covered with their prostrate bodies, the 
Huns began to show some faint signs of wavering. Then it was 
that Aetius gave the signal to charge, and with one mighty im- 
pulse the Romans surged forward, sweeping all before them down 
the hillside. Almost at the same time Theodoric with the brave 
Visigoths darted forward in an impetuous rush upon the Ostro- 
goths on the extreme right of Attila's lines. These latter were 
far from having heart in the fight ; were simply enforced levies ; 
their sympathy could hardly have been with their half- savage 



176 CHALONS. 

conquerors, and their resistance was but feeble. Nevertheless, 
for a time they stood their ground, and one ill-fated javelin, 
thrown perhaps at random, struck down gallant King Theodoric 
as he charged at the head of his cavalry. He fell beneath the 
thundering hoofs of his squadrons and was trampled to death 
in the instant of victory. Learning even in the heat of battle 
of their great loss, the Visigoths with redoubled fury drove the 
opposing right in headlong confusion from the field, and then 
turned as one man and charged the Hunnish centre now locked 
in combat with the Alans. 

Attila quickly saw his peril, and ordered his centre to fall back 
face to the foe until they reached the intrenchments. There had 
been terrible slaughter on his left along the contested slope, and 
though his centre could easily have overthrown that of the allies, 
he plainly saw that with his left wing badly crippled and his right 
wing utterly gone, the open plain was no longer to be thought 
of. Back went the struggling Huns, amazed and discomfited at 
an experience so new to them, and the withdrawal of the centre 
was accomplished in safety. Once more Attila was enabled to 
reform his lines with his archers well protected by earthworks 
and the rows of wagons. 

For some strange reason Aetius, after beating back the fierce 
attack upon the slopes, called off his men and prohibited the 
pursuit they were so eager to engage in. Had the Romans 
followed up their advantage there, it is probable that the camp 
itself would have been in their hands before nightfall and the 
victory far more decisive than it was ; but he held aloof. Attila 
succeeded in reassembling his centre and what remained of his 
left wing, and night put an end to further operations for the time 
being. His retreat, if it could be so called, was effected in ad- 
mirable order, and, though pursued and hounded all the way, 
the centre preserved its resolute front, and, once within the 
lines of intrenchments, their bowmen proved too dangerous for 
further attack. 

All the same, Attila was wofully depressed. His losses had 
been terrible, and he confidently expected that with the rising 
sun his enemies would make a errand and united attack which it 



ATTILA'S RETREAT— HIS DEATH. ]77 

might be impossible to resist. He would fight to the last, but 
in his desperation he resolved not to be taken alive, nor to per- 
mit the foe to realize anything valuable in the way of spoil. 
So during the long night, while his officers were posting the 
best archers along the front of the lines and making every 
preparation for stout defence, he caused a great mound to be 
made of the wooden saddles of his cavalry ; round it he heaped 
the plunder and treasure he had won ; on it were placed his 
wives, who happened to be with the army, and he himself took 
his station there. It was to be his funeral pyre should the allies 
successfully storm the camp. 

But the allies did not attack. Morning revealed the plain 
covered for miles with dead and dying, but the lines of Rome 
and Gaul had not advanced. It is said that Aetius refused to 
complete the work of the day before, because he knew that an 
overwhelming rout and slaughter of the Huns would so elate his 
allies, the Visigoths, that they might renounce their allegiance 
to Rome entirely and declare their independence of Roman rule, 
since they had shown how valiantly they could hold their own in 
battle. Be this as it may, Aetius persuaded young King Thoris- 
mund, who had just succeeded Theodoric, his father, that it 
would be best to leave things as they were and return to his 
capital. Molested no further, but terribly shattered and beaten, 
Attila was allowed to retreat from France. He died two years 
after Chalons, and his great empire fell to pieces with his death. 
The Huns were no longer the terror and scourge of Westerr 
Europe. 
12 



TOURS. 




732 A. D. 

OR years after Chalons great changes were 
taking place in Christendom. The Roman 
Empire died out in the West. The Saxons 
and Angles conquered Britain. Italy and 
Northern Africa were for a time added to 
the Roman Empire of the East. Wars 
were vigorously carried on between the 
Emperors of Constantinople and the Kings 
of Persia well into the seventh century. 
Then came the era of Mohammed and the Hegira, in 622. 
Then Mohammed conquered Arabia, and during the remainder 
of the century the Mohammedan Arabs, gaining constantly in 
strength and confidence, invaded first Persia, then conquered 
Syria, Egypt and Africa ; and early in the eighth century, from 
707 to 713, they had crossed the straits of Gibraltar, and were 
battling and conquering all over Spain. 

The Germanic conquerors of Rome had, three centuries 
before this, fallen back across the Rhine, never to return. A 
French monarchy had been founded in Gaul by King Clovis, 
and for three hundred years it had struggled on. Now, the 
peace, prosperity and the hopes of Christian France were threat- 
ened by this advancing wave of followers of the pagan prophet. 
Everywhere, from the south of Gaul, along Africa, Egypt, Ara- 
bia, Syria, far to Eastern Persia, everywhere, from the Pyrenees 
to the Himalayas, the name of Mohammed was worshipped, and 
his Koran was the law. 

And now, with a veteran and united army, thoroughly disci- 
plined and equipped, these determined Saracens had planted 
(178) 




JBVZAJS1IN1AK WABEIOS A»D MAJOB DOMDS. KNIGHT AND SQUIBE, FIBST CBUSADE. 

HISTORIC WAR DRESS. 



CROSSING THE PYRENEES. 179 

their magazines along the frontier and with stores in abundance, 
with every advantage in their favor, they were about to cross 
the Pyrenees and attempt the conquest of Gaul. From Persia 
to Spain the Caliph was the supreme power, and him the Mos- 
lems obeyed unhesitatingly ; and his trusted general, Abderrah- 
man Abdillah Alghafeki, was governor in Spain and com- 
mander of the army of occupation. Abderrahman was the hero 
of the Saracen soldiery, a tried leader, a generous and zealous 
man, and it was with unbounded confidence that they prepared 
to follow him across the mountains to the plains of Southern 
France. 

In the summer of 732, at the head of 80,000 soldiers, among 
whom were some admirable Arabian cavalry, Abderrahman 
crossed the Pyrenees as Hannibal had crossed them ten centu- 
ries before, and swooped down upon the cities and towns that 
lay before him. France had no army with which to successfully 
oppose him. Count Eudes, of Aquitaine, strove to check him 
on the Garonne, but was beaten with great loss, and beyond 
doubt the Mohammedan invasion of France would have been a 
complete success, had the leading men not promptly called to 
their aid Prince Charles, of the Austrasian Franks, over near the 
Rhine ; and this Charles, surnamed Martel (the Hammer), lost 
no time in pushing forward with his irregular cavalry to join 
forces with his western neighbors, and, just one hundred years 
after the death of Mohammed, the followers of the prophet were 
met and overthrown in " the deadly battle " of Tours. 

More than one great fight has taken place in the beautiful 
valley of the Loire, but none has the historic interest which 
centres in this. Great, decisive and important as was the anni- 
hilation of the legions of Varus by the German Arminius, the 
victory of Charles Martel over the Saracens at Tours outrivalled 
it in national consequence. Doctor Arnold, the eminent Eng- 
lish writer of history, regards the latter as the most important 
and decisive of the middle ages. It was the check to Moham- 
medan invasion, without which Southwestern Europe would 
have been overrun as was Southeastern, where, to this day, the 
descendants of the Saracens are the rulers of Turkey, the hold 



180 TOURS. 

ers of the great city which Napoleon described as " the Empire 
of the World." 

Charles Martel had no standing army, but years of warfare 
had skilled his hand and eye, and given strength to his own 
high courage. He organized a large force of militia among the 
Franks, and brought with him, to the rescue of his kinsmen, a 
considerable body of horse and foot from along the Rhine. 
Just how many men he could muster nobody seems to know. 
The historians of that day were the old monks, who wrote very 
vaguely when it came to describing military matters, nor were 
the accounts on the Saracen side any more complete. 

From all obtainable sources it would seem that, after crossing 
the Pyrenees and defeating Count Eumenes on the Garonne, the 
80,000 soldiery of Abderrahman scattered over the level plains 
of France, robbing, burning and destroying in a most ruthless 
manner. It is related by the monks that so sure were they of 
success and of subduing the whole country, that it appeared 
as though this Moslem army of occupation had come to stay 
permanently, for they brought with them their wives and chil- 
dren, flocks and herds, and all their belongings. It was an in- 
vasion with a purpose. 

Abderrahman had obtained accurate information as to the real 
inhabitants, their means of defence, etc., and knew that from 
them he had nothing to dread. Of Charles Martel and the 
possibility of interference where he was concerned, he had appa- 
rently little idea. His army was allowed to scatter in every 
direction over the broad, fertile valleys, and in so doing they 
became necessarily disorganized, and lost much of their disci- 
pline. Their Berber or Arabian light cavalry committed terri- 
ble ravages throughout the land, and the bitterest hatred sprang 
up against them. Whatever the Franks were lacking in warlike 
instruction they soon made up in eager daring ; and, taking ad- 
vantage of their ardor and the scattered condition of the Sara- 
cens, Martel probably wisely chose to strike hard and quick, 
without even waiting to organize and discipline his volunteers. 

The armies met near the city of Tours, on the broad river 
Loire. The invaders had already assaulted the walls and were 



TACTICS OF CHARLES MARTEL. IgJ 

carrying everything before them — even committing the greatest 
excesses and crimes. While thus plunder-laden, and scattered 
and disordered, the army of Martel marched steadily down upon 
them. Abderrahman hastily recalled his forces and strove to 
form lines, and several days of indecisive skirmishing passed by. 
His Arabian cavalry, always ready and daring, opened the real 
battle on the 3d of October, charging again and again upon the 
sturdily advancing lines of the Franks, inflicting great losses but 
suffering severely on their own side. Martel had but few horse- 
men to oppose to such trained riders as these, and for some time 
it seemed as though their wild attacks must succeed in wearing 
out the firmness of the soldiers of Gaul, unused as they had long 
been to anything like warfare ; but Martel was spirited, hopeful 
and energetic, fighting cautiously but bravely, and when at last 
the day was done he had succeeded in engaging the entire 
host of Abderrahman ; had compelled him to abandon the assault 
of the city in the moment of triumph, and in holding his own 
position intact against the furious charges of the enemy. The 
first day closed decidedly in his favor, and Abderrahman was 
driven into his camp, to the south towards Poictiers. 

But the battle was not yet won. At the first gray of dawn 
the Moslem cavalry were at them again, but now the awe they 
had inspired in the breasts of the simple-minded peasantry had 
disappeared. The Franks had gained great confidence, and not 
only repulsed the charges with heavy loss, but soon began to 
.press the squadrons in retreat and force them in turn. It so 
happened therefore that a cry went up that the camp in rear of 
Abderrahman's lines was being attacked, and all the plunder 
would be recaptured. This added to the unsteadiness of the 
troops already shaken by the determined stand of the Franks. 
Dozens of squadrons broke, galloping off to the rear under pre- 
tence of defending the camp. The lines of Abderrahman began 
to waver. He himself was quick to note it and to throw him- 
self into the thick of the fight, calling on all to stand by him ; 
but Martel, too, with a soldier's keen eye, had marked every 
symptom, and now at last ordered a general advance and charge 
upon the Saracens. With one simultaneous impulse the Frank- 



182 TOURS. 

ish army swept forward ; Abderrahman, fighting like a lion, was 
surrounded, hewed down and pierced by a dozen spears. Then 
indeed the demoralized army could stand it no longer and broke 
and fled closely and vehemently pursued. Martel, like Caesar, 
gave no rest to beaten foe; no time to rally and try it again. 
Everywhere the Moslems were cut down and slaughtered, for 
no mercy was shown to those who had been so unmerciful, and 
the carnage during that long afternoon of pursuit was something 
indescribable. One writer of the day asserts that over 300,000 
Saracens were slain, and that the loss of Charles Martel did not 
exceed 1,000, but the statements both ways are unreliable. 
Only 80,000 fighting men, according to Saracen chronicles, were 
in the army, though the monks always claimed that several 
hundred thousand were north of the Pyrenees. Certain it is 
that the army was annihilated, the leader killed, and the plun- 
der recaptured. Their own writers speak of their defeat as a 
most " disgraceful overthrow," and it is reasonable to suppose 
that Martel had accomplished his victory with an inferior 
force. 

The battle of Tours freed Gaul at once from further assault 
for a long time to come. It is true that the Saracens made one 
more effort to invade France by moving up the valley of the 
Rhone, but the attempt was speedily and sharply checked. The 
death of Charles left his sons, Carloman and Pepin, to divide 
the Frankish empire, but the latter soon assumed the title of 
king, became possessed of the whole of France, and, when he in 
turn died, in 768, the kingdom was again divided between two 
sons, Carloman and Charles ; again the elder speedily died, leav- 
ing undivided sovereignty to the younger brother. When just 
twenty-eight years of age Charles, second son of Pepin, grandson 
of Charles Martel, became head of the whole empire of the west, 
and with wonderful skill, vigor and address extended its limits 
in every direction, building up a magnificent Christian empire 
that soon included Rome itself within its territory, and, in the 
year 800, he was solemnly crowned at St. Peter's Emperor of 
the Roman Empire of the West, and became to history Charles 
the Great — Charlemagne. 



HASTINGS. 




1066. 

HE battle of Tours had rid the Franks once 
and for all of the possibility of Saracen over- 
throw. The grand empire of Charlemagne 
was founded on the victory won by his grand- 
father, Charles Martel, and yet no sooner had 
Charles the Great been called from earth 
than the disruption of that great empire be- 
gan. The kingdom of France was soon 
separated from Germany and Italy. Then 
France herself began to suffer from the incursions of a vigorous, 
hardy race, called the Northmen, Danes by birth, and for two 
centuries fleet after fleet of Scandinavians swept down upon the 
coasts of England, France and Spain, and in the year 911 Duke 
Rolla (Hrolf the Northman), with a powerful army of Scandi- 
navian warriors at his back, settled in the north of France, the 
province of Neustria having been ceded to them by the king as 
the price of a peaceful future. Intermarriages with the Frankish 
' families soon followed, but these people of Duke Rolla became 
the ruling race in northern France, and their country became 
known as Normandy. 

Just such stalwart manhood and brawn and muscle as came 
in with these hardy adventurers was what was needed to develop 
a race of knights and soldiers in France such as had not been 
seen since the days of Csesar, and the warlike skill they brought 
with them, tempered by the polish of the Latin nations of the 
south, formed a combination of qualities that in one century had 
made the knights of Normandy renowned throughout Europe. 
Pilgrimages to the Holy Land of Palestine were then frequent, 
£ 5 (183) 



j 84 HASTINGS. 

and Norman officers became known in Italy, speedily winning 
a settlement of their own in Apulia and also in the island of 
Sicily. Meantime, across the channel, the Saxon line of kings 
was still filling the throne of England after the sons of the Danish 
King Canute had died out, and Edward the Confessor was ruler 
of the island. He had received his education in the court of 
Normandy, and was strongly imbued with Norman ideas. He 
well knew that under an old compact with King Hardicanute 
the Norsemen believed themselves entitled now to the crown of 
England, but so long as Duke Robert of Normandy was absent 
on his pilgrimage there was no probability of trouble arising, and 
when his son William rose to the dukedom in 1035 he was not 
in readiness to enforce any claim, nor did he in any way actively 
interfere when Edward, his kinsman, came to the fore as the 
successor of the Canutes in 1041. 

But Edward the Confessor was childless, and three powerful 
rivals made preparations to seize the throne when his death 
should leave it vacant. For the time being all eyes were on 
England. The rivals were : first, a foreign prince from the 
north; second, a foreign prince from the south ; third, an English- 
born prince — a hero of the people. 

Harald Hardrata of Norway was the first; William of Nor- 
mandy the second ; Harold the Saxon was the third. It is said 
by historians that the interest of the great contest was greatly 
enhanced by the prominence and character of these three rivals, 
all champions of their respective races. The prize was a noble 
one, the struggle gallant in the last degree. | 

Shortly before the death of Edward the Confessor, Harold 
had been induced to visit Normandy as the ostensible guest of 
Duke William. Harold was already proclaimed by the English 
people their choice for king when the now enfeebled Edward 
should die ; but Edward was suspected of leaning toward Nor- 
mandy and the claims, as he was known to admire the marked 
ability, of William. It may be that he actually played into the 
hand of Normandy and sent Harold thither. At all events, 
though treated as a guest, the young earl found himself actually 
a prisoner, and while there, in the presence of a crowded court, 



HAROLD DEFEATS THE NORWEGIANS. 185 

William of Normandy extracted from the Saxon a solemn 
pledge to deliver up to him the throne of England on the death 
of Edward. Alone, defenceless, and believing his life endan- 
gered if he refused, Harold reluctantly gave the pledge, was 
then permitted to return to England, and on the 5th of January, 
1066, King Edward died, and the throne was vacant. 

The very next day all the nobles, " the thanes and prelates 
present in London," all the people within reach named Harold 
for king, and on the 7th of January, disregarding the oath ex- 
tracted from him by, as he claimed, violence and the fear of his 
life, the Saxon was duly anointed and crowned King of England. 

He was instantly assailed both from north and south. His 
renegade brother, Earl Tostig, urged on the preparations of 
King Harald Hardrata from the Norseland, and, though dwarfed 
by the importance and extent of the invasions of Duke William, 
the movement of the Norse king, almost at the same time, should 
never be forgotten in this connection. Even while Harold of 
England was throwing all his energies into the scheme for the 
defeat of the powerful Normans, now preparing to invade him 
from the channel, he learned that Harald of Norseland had landed 
at the far end of his kingdom. He had to drop everything on 
the channel shores and hasten to meet him. Two hundred war 
ships, three hundred transports and the best soldiery of Scan- 
dinavia came to back Harald Hardrata. Landing in Yorkshire 
and overthrowing the local forces, he conquered the city of York, 
and in an incredibly short time was master of all the country 
north of the Humber. But, quick as the news could reach King 
Harold in Sussex, he sped away northward, a valiant army with 
him, and, surprising the Norwegians by the rapidity of his 
march, he terribly defeated them at Stamford Bridge, September 
25th, 1066, Harald Hardrata and his noblest men going down 
before him. The battle and victory, splendid as it was, had been 
won, however, at great cost. Harold lost many excellent officers 
and men; but, worst of all, William of Normandy, utterly unop- 
posed, had effected his landing on the Sussex shore. 

Superb as was William's character as a soldier, he was as con- 
summate a politician and statesman. Before entering upou the 



186 HASTINGS. 

contest at all he had reminded Harold of his oath. Harold had 
replied that he could not lay down what was not his own — the 
will of his country. His royalty was the voice of his people. 
Even were it not, he argued, an enforced oath could not be bind- 
ing. The Norman first published his rival all over Europe as a 
perjurer; then, to fortify still more his position in public esteem, 
submitted the whole case to the Pope of Rome, who solemnly 
decided that England rightfully belonged to William, sent him a 
blessed banner to be borne in the van of his army, and bade him 
bring England to terms without delay. The superstitious rever- 
ence in which the Church of Rome was held was in itself an all- 
powerful ally to Duke William, but he neglected nothing. His 
preparations were complete. 

All the wealth of his dukedom, all the influence of his own 
powerful mind were thrown into the task of recruiting from the 
noblest classes the knighthood of his army. All the soldiers of 
fortune of the day hastened to fight under that consecrated ban- 
ner, and the very chivalry of Christendom crowded to his ranks, 
eager to be enrolled in so holy a cause under so renowned and 
brilliant a leader. 

All through the spring and summer the seaports, ship-yards 
and harbors of northern France were crowded with sailors and 
builders, with soldiers and knights. At last, late in August, the 
great armament was complete. Baffling winds delayed him 
for a time, but on the 29th of September, 1066, just after 
Harold's triumph at Stamford Bridge, William of Normandy, 
with 50,000 gallant knights and gentlemen and 10,000 soldiers 
of the line, effected his landing in Pevensey Bay, not far from 
the castle of Hastings. 

It was a desperate blow to Harold. He had been most ener- 
getic in his preparations, had organized a large army and a 
powerful fleet to defeat the threatened invasion, but both had 
been diverted at the critical moment. He was rejoicing in York 
when the bitter news reached him, but instantly retraced his 
steps, hurrying back to Sussex. The victory over the Nor- 
wegians had won him the enthusiastic devotion of all England. 
It was in his power to immediately enroll a large army. His 



WILLIAM OF NORMANDY LANDS. 187 

fleet was already numerous and powerful. From a strategical 
standpoint, now that William with 60,000 men had landed on his 
coast, the one thing for him to do to insure an overwhelming 
triumph was to withdraw the small force in southern England ; 
to tempt the Normans toward London ; to leave to his seamen 
the duty of cutting off all their supplies or reinforcements from 
France; then to surround the invaders with the overwhelming 
force he could bring to bear and crush them out of existence. 
But — Harold was soft-hearted. He could not bear to lay open 
the lands of southern England even temporarily to the plunder- 
ing hands of the invaders. He stopped in London only long 
enough to give orders for the assembly of all his available troops 
in Sussex at once. He directed the fleet to rendezvous off the 
coast, and then pushed on. It may be that victory over the 
Norsemen had made him altogether too confident, but he showed 
the utmost eagerness to meet the southern invaders, and, in his 
haste, neglected many a valuable precaution. In William of Nor- 
mandy and his knights he was destined to meet foemen full as 
brave as, but far more skillful and far more wary and cautious 
than, the rude soldiery of Harald of the Norseland. 

The landing of William of Normandy had been accomplished 
under auspices that were wonderfully favorable. The breeze 
was light and soft. The sea smooth and still. The ships were 
easily beached, and then the Norman archers — they who were 
so soon to play the most important part in the struggle with 
England — " shaven and shorn, clad in short garments," stripped 
for the fight, so to speak, and carrying only their bows and full 
quivers, sprang into the summer surf, out over the smooth, sandy 
shore and well to the front. A strong skirmish line of several 
thousand expert bowmen covered the whole movement, and 
secured the army of the Normans against surprise. Then came 
the landing of the mail-clad knights and their chargers. Many 
must have gone to fight on foot until the fortune of war should 
provide them with mounts, for though he had 50,000 gallant 
knights and gentlemen Duke William could not begin to 
muster ships enough to transport horses for that many. But 
enough horsemen there were to make a stout array, and with 



188 HASTINGS. 

lances in hand they too rode forward to meet any foe that might 
appear, while the disembarkation went uninterruptedly on. 

Three wooden castles, in pieces, had been carefully prepared 
in France. These too were brought ashore. One was immedi- 
ately set up on good high ground. Stores and provisions were 
safely landed ; and the long projected invasion was an accom- 
plished fact. 

As Duke William himself sprang from his boat to the sands a 
singular thing occurred. He slipped, and fell heavily forward 
upon his breast and hands. Superstition was rife in those days, 
and a cry of " bad omen " went up; but he sprang to his feet, 
holding high his hands, tightly grasping the dripping sands of 
the seashore, and called out so that all could hear, " See, my 
lords, by the splendor of God ! I have taken possession of Eng- 
land with both my hands," and his presence of mind and ready 
wit revived their spirits. There was no more thought of evil 
omen. 

Protected by strong outposts of archers and cavalry the Nor- 
man army spent its first night on English soil in peace ; moved 
eastward the next day towards Hastings, set up the other two 
castles and prepared a strongly fortified camp. Meantime, how- 
ever, Duke William sent his cavalry well out northward toward 
London, to watch for every movement of the enemy, while his 
foragers swept over the country, bringing in provisions, cattle, 
anything useful they could lay hand upon. Harold had hoped 
to surprise the Normans as he had the Norwegians, but found 
himself utterly mistaken. Their cavalry kept watch over his 
every movement, and, seeing this, he simply contented himself 
with driving them in towards their main body, and then, with 
what force he had, halting about seven miles from the Norman 
camp. 

His force was inferior to that of William. Again the policy 
was urged upon him of falling back towards London, destroying 
the crops and provisions as he went. This would soon have had 
disastrous effect upon the foreigners, who, cut off from reinforce- 
ments or supplies by the English fleet, would have starved, or 
fallen victims to the masses of volunteers that were ready to 



POSITION AND EQUIPMENTS OF THE SAXONS. Ig9 

flock to the standard of King Harold. But he was determined 
and eager for a fight. His brothers, Gurth and Leofwine, then 
urged him to take no personal part in the combat, but to let 
those who loved fight for him and their common country. This, 
too, he rejected, declaring that no man should say that he forced 
his friends to fight where he himself shared not every danger. 
This point settled, he chose his battle-ground, and chose it with 
great skill, for he knew that his antagonist would be forced to 
attack him. 

Some eight miles back of Hastings, where the ruins of Battle 
Abbey now stand, was a little place then called Senlac. Here, 
on a wooded ridge with open slopes towards the south, Harold 
established his lines, and covered his entire front with a stout 
palisade of stakes, shields, osier hurdles and wattles, a compact 
earth-and-basket-work that made a capital rampart. Back of 
the ridge were thick woods, and on the one flank which was 
open he caused a deep ditch to be dug from north to south as a 
protection against cavalry attack from that side ; for it was the 
large force of knights and mounted men-at-arms that Harold 
had most reason to dread. 

Here behind these intrenchments the English army, hurriedly 
summoned from all over the kingdom south of the Humber, 
gathered in loyalty to their new sovereign and to their native land. 
Those from the cities were well armed, as were the earls and 
barons with their retainers, but there were large numbers of 
peasantry who had nothing better than clubs, picks, iron forks 
and the like. The nobles and the better classes of the soldiery- 
wore helmets with hanging capes that fell upon the shoulders 
and protected the throat and neck. Their bodies were clad in 
the stiff and heavy hauberks then in use by nearly all practised 
soldiers, and all carried stout shields. Their weapons were 
sharp lances, " bills " (not unlike the modern bill-hook in shape 
but much heavier and larger), and many carried massive battle- 
axes and maces. These were the arms of the nobles and some 
of the veteran soldiers, but in addition there was a strong force 
of bowmen. 

On the other side, the knights and nobles of the Normans 



190 HASTINGS. 

were superbly mounted, their horses and themselves to a cer- 
tain extent covered with an armor impenetrable to lance or arrow. 
The knights wore massive helmets, hauberks, and boots of metal ; 
all carried shields, each with his own device or " cognizance " 
emblazoned thereon, by which they might be known to one 
another in battle. Their arms were lances, long swords, maces 
and some carried the battle-axes. Among the footmen defen- 
sive armor was little worn except the shield, though many had 
bound hides upon their breasts and legs. All were expert archers, 
and in addition to their bows were armed with short swords. 
Such were the forces of England and France facing one another 
on the southern shores of Sussex early in October, 1066. 

But though he sought and desired an immediate and decisive 
battle, Duke William again made propositions to Harold, all of 
which were promptly declined. The latter well knew that the 
price which William was to pay his vassals for their assistance 
was the division of all England into estates for their benefit. 
He felt assured that were he to abdicate now he could not save 
his kingdom from pillage. He determined to fight to the last, 
and, despite his smaller force, was hopeful as to the result. In- 
deed his nobles were of the same opinion : " Our lands, our 
homes, our wives and daughters are promised to these invading 
knights. They come to ruin not only us but our descendants." 
This was the universal voice of Harold's army, and the English 
swore to make no terms, no truce, but to drive out the Normans 
or die in trying. 

And now all knew that there could be no further postpone- 
ment of the battle. That night the Saxons spent around their 
camp-fires carousing and singing; but the Normans looked well 
to their horses and arms, confessed themselves to their priests, 
and partook of the holy sacrament. They believed that the 
blessing of heaven rested with them ; that the banner of Rome, 
the symbol of their holy church, gave to their invasion all the 
sacred character of a religious war, and their ceremonies were 
conducted with full hearts and utter solemnity. 

At daybreak on Saturday, October 14th, both camps were 
speedily awake and active ; but, beyond doubt, the Normans 




CHARLEMAGNE. {Albrecht Durer.) 



COMPOSITION OF THE NORMANS. 191 

were fresher and in better condition for the fight than their 
Saxon antagonists. Once more the priests assembled the 
knights and soldiery who bore the banner of the pope. Sol- 
emn masses were sung, and now, assured of victory, the men 
are gathering around their leaders and receiving brief exhorta- 
tions as to the duties expected of them. The nobles are all 
assembled at the tent of Duke William, where he has explained 
in detail his plan of attack, and is now adding some ringing 
words of encouragement and cheer. He is all serenity and con- 
fidence. " I have no doubt of victory ; we are come for glory ; 
the victory is in our hands, and we may make sure of obtaining 
it if we so please." 

With that he orders them to go and arm themselves, and one 
and all the barons and knights withdraw. Half an hour more 
and, in superb array, the army of France marched forth upon 
the green slopes of peaceful Sussex. 

Duke William had divided his force into three grand divi- 
sions. On one side were arrayed " the men of Boilogne and 
Poix, and all my soldiers," as the leader had designated them, 
under command of Roger de Montgomeri. On the other, " the 
Poitevins and the Bretons, and all the barons of Maine," led by 
Alain Fergert and Ameri. In the centre, where the hardest 
fighting was expected, and where the consecrated banner waved 
aloft, rode Duke William himself with " his own great men, his 
friends and kindred." The best blood of France, the best blood 
of the young nobility of every court in Christendom followed 
the banner of the church that day, and well might Harold say, 
" Those whom you see in such numbers are not priests, but 
stout soldiers, as they will soon make us feel." 

William's superiority was in cavalry, and, knowing this, Har- 
old's plan of intrenching his position and fighting on the defen- 
sive was capital. But, leading the Norman horsemen, marching 
gallantly forward towards the high palisade, came ranks of Nor- 
man archers, and by these the battle is begun. With loud blare 
of horn, bugle and trumpet ; with ringing war-cry and half- 
savage, answering yell, the combatants open fire with their 
arrows. In a moment the air is dark with the flying missiles. 



192 HASTINGS. " 

But the Norman lines never halt. Pressing vigorously for- 
ward they reach and spring upon the palisading, and there the 
ranks of France and England clash together. Instantly lance, 
spear, sword, axe and arrow are plying their deadly work, and, 
in the midst of most terrific din and clangor, the battle of Hast- 
ings has fairly opened. 

A little in rear of the centre of the English lines, on a rising 
hillock, has been planted a gorgeous standard, rich with gold 
and gems. Here, when all was ready, King Harold had placed 
himself with his brothers Gurth and Leofwine, and his noble 
body-guard. From here he had closely watched the Norman 
army as it came up from the south and deployed before his eyes. 
Many of the knights and nobles he was able to recognize and 
to point out to his attendants. Despite his bravery and hope, 
he well knew that a desperate fight was before him. " Keep to- 
gether," he urged his barons, " all is lost if once they penetrate 
our ranks ; cleave wherever you can. It will be ill done if you 
spare aught." 

It was just about nine o'clock in the morning, when the 
French Knight " Taillefer," urging and receiving permission 
from Duke William, dashed out ahead of the advancing lines of 
France, and bending low upon his saddle-bow, with couched 
lance, came charging down upon the very centre of the Saxon 
spearmen at the palisade. He singled out his victim, drove his 
lance through and through, then drawing sword, dared the de- 
fenders to attack him. In an instant he was hurled from his 
horse and killed. Then came the simultaneous dash of the 
archers, and now, all along the line of palisading, the battle is 
fierce — a hand-to-hand conflict, fought with the utmost despera- 
tion and gallantry. The mail-clad knights of Normandy are at 
once seen to have a great advantage. With their heavy maces 
they batter down portions of the palisade, though many receive 
their death-wounds, and many a horse rolls over in agony in the 
attempt. Then in small bodies they charge at the gaps thus 
made, leap in upon the swordsmen and hew right and left, but 
nowhere does the English line give way. A strong body of 
Norman horse has swept around the flank and, despite the ditch, 



HAROLD SEVERELY WOUNDED. 193 

charged in upon the Saxons, but Harold quickly sends an active 
band to assail them in turn and, with bloody loss on both sides, 
the Frenchmen are cut down, and the remnant forced back 
across the ditch again, and the ditch itself is speedily filled with 
bodies of the dead and dying. For hours an indescribable com- 
bat is carried on. In heat and dust and din of battle, taunts and 
jeers and war-cries that are unintelligible to one another except 
from accompanying pantomime, arrows and darts, stones and 
even swords are hurled at one another. A dozen times the 
palisade is carried, a dozen times the Normans are forced back, 
and for six terrible hours of this ebb and flow of battle-lines, of 
shouting, shrieking, cursing, struggling, the desperate combat 
goes on. Everywhere are deeds of knightly valor or stubborn 
plebeian courage to be noted. Even the good Bishop of Bayeux, 
seeing some of the Norman retainers taking to flight, first dashed 
in among to stop them, and then, with hauberk over his white 
canonicals and uplifted mace in hand, returned to the thickest 
of the fight, animating and directing the assaults of the knights. 
But the repulse of the Norman cavalry on the flank had been 
a severe disappointment. The superb and stubborn resistance 
of the Saxons was something that Duke William had not antici^ 
pated. The day was on the decline. Three o'clock had come 
and gone, and still no man could say how the battle would end. 
For some time the Norman archers had been withdrawn as use- 
less. The English kept their shields well forward, and the 
light shafts glanced off harmlessly ; but suddenly an idea comes 
to William : " Shoot upwards, archers, that the arrows may fall 
in their faces." And now, from the heavens above, the keen 
missiles come raining down upon the thick, struggling masses 
of Saxon infantry, and some, flying higher and dropping farther 
to the rear, find their way into the group around the priceless 
standard of England. Another minute and brave Harold him- 
self is stunned, blinded and sore-stricken. A shaft has sunk 
deep into his cheek, tearing out his eye in its course. He 
drags out the barbed arrow, then, bleeding, reeling and faint, 
leans his head upon his shield. He has seen the last of his 
devoted army. His sight is gone. 



194 HASTINGS. 

But, ignorant of the blow that had robbed them of their sov- 
ereign, the Saxons fought on. Even before the order had been 
given to the archers, the Norman leaders had resolved upon a 
plan to draw the English out of their works. The word was 
passed from mouth to mouth : " Fall back at the signal ; fall 
back, but be ready to turn again when they are scattered in pur- 
suit, well out on the slopes." And with that, slowly at first, 
then more hastily, as though in some disorder, the lines of 
France begin to retire. It is the same trick that Harold so suc- 
cessfully played upon the Norsemen at Stamford Bridge a month , 
before, but he cannot see it now. He is not there to check the 
pursuit that almost instantly is taken up by the wild and un- 
manageable Saxons. Incredulous at first, they soon realize that 
the entire Norman force is surely falling back. Then, with 
raging taunts and shouts, with brandishing arms, forgetful of all 
order or discipline, over the works they go, and bound down 
the slopes in scattering chase. The solid ranks are broken. 
The one thing against which Harold warned them, and is now 
powerless either to see or prevent, has befallen them. And now 
the trumpets ring out the signal, " halt." The Norman knights 
and archers once more face the disordered foe; then, with 
simultaneous impulse, bear down upon them in headlong im- 
pulse. This time there is no withstanding them. Back go the 
broken bands, closely followed by the horsemen of Normandy, 
and in five minutes more, what remains of the English army is 
grouped in solid mass on that bloody hillock where the great 
standard still waves, where, blind and bleeding, Harold still 
stands with hopeless sword ; where the men of Kent and Essex 
still confront the lances with undaunted breasts. But all is use- 
less now. Little by little, one by one, like the Spartans of 
Leonidas at Thermopylae, they fall around their leader, are 
trampled under foot and iron hoof; and, as the compact circle 
grows smaller and smaller, the surging throng of Norman as- 
sailants more numerous, the mail-clad knights force their way 
in towards the coveted standard, William himself being among 
the most daring and conspicuous, and by one of these King 
Harold himself is felled to earth, while another gives him his 



WILLIAM VICTORIOUS. 195 

death-wound as he struggles to his knee, at the foot of the flag 
he has so devotedly defended. The sun goes down upon a field 
that is one vast charnel-house ; upon an exhausted but victori- 
ous army on one side, upon the bleeding relics of their anni- 
hilated foemen on the other; and Duke William of Normandy, 
winning the great and decisive battle of Hastings, wins for him- 
self the throne, for his nobles the broad lands of Merrie 
England. 

Harold, Gurth, Leofwine, all the noblest earls and barons of 
England, more than half the army, lay among the slain ; and 
yet so well had they fought, so savagely had Saxon battle-axe 
hewn its way through Norman helm and hauberk, that 20,000, 
one-fourth of the army of France, lay dead upon the nobly dis- 
puted field. 

Solemnly the victor celebrated his wonderful triumph. Secur- 
ing the rich standard of the royal Saxons, his first words were to 
vow the erection there where it stood of a holy abbey, where 
the prayers of the Church of Rome should ceaselessly be 
chanted for the souls of those who fell in the great victory. 
His own tent was set for the night amid the dead, upon the hill 
where Harold's standard had waved throughout the terrible 
day ; and then, wearied and bruised, the victors slept upon the 
field. 

Among all the knights and nobles none had fought more 
gallantly than the great leader himself. Two horses had been 
killed under him. Several foemen had fallen by his hand. His 
armor was hacked and battered in many places, and he had nar- 
rowly escaped mortal hurts. But William of Normandy, now 
become William the Conqueror, resumed, on the morrow, his 
triumphant march to London, and there, on Christmas day, was 
duly crowned King of England. 

The results of Hastings were many. An utterly new race of 
men, a fresh array of nobles and knights, became the rulers of 
the land. Bitter hatred for years existed against them on the 
part of the Saxons, and, in their disdainful pride, the conquerors 
made no effort to conciliate. The ancient constitution, the last 
of the Saxon kings, the leaders of the Saxon nobility, all were 



196 



HASTINGS. 



overthrown. The people of the land who, but a month before, 
were its sturdy owners, became little better than slaves of the 
new masters. The Saxon language was declared fit only for 
churls, Saxon customs for servants. All the high places in 
church or state were now filled by men of Roman or Norman 
selection. From Hastings until the signing of the Magna 
Charta, nearly a century and a half, Anglo-Norman and Anglo- 
Saxon held aloof from and hated one another ; but that charter, 
wrested from King John at Runnymede, became the font of 
English nationality, and from that time there was concert and 
harmony. 

But, bitter as had been the hatred, the Norman conquest was 
the making of England. A brave, chivalrous, warlike and 
vastly superior and intellectual race had, by Hastings, become 
rooted in the English soil. Their better qualities were marred 
by their many acts of cruelty and oppression, but to Norman 
blood and Norman brains the British Empire is this day in- 
debted, infinitely more than many of its people will admit or be- 
lieve. Speaking of the Normans, Campbell has dared to say, 
" They high-mettled the blood of our veins." Guizot declares 
that England's liberties are due to her conquest by the Normans. 
Lord Chatham eulogized the " iron barons " who were the build- 
ers of the great constitution, and who were Normans all ; and 
even the great English historian Gibbon, himself, has had the 
justice to say that "Assuredly England was a gainer by the 
Conquest." 




DKATH OF HARuLl 



JERUSALEM. 



1099. 




HE Saracens who had been driven out of 
France by the valor of Charles Martel were 
nevertheless masters of Africa from the Straits 
of Gibraltar to the Red Sea, and thence, east- 
ward, had swept over and subdued Asia as 
far as the Ganges. For years before the in- 
vasion of England by William the Conqueror, 
hundreds of high-born men, both of the clergy 
of the Church of Rome and nobles not of the 
priesthood, had been crowding each year eastward to pay their 
devotions at the sepulchre of Jesus Christ at Jerusalem. The 
influence of the church was never greater than in the eleventh 
and twelfth centuries. Rome had then no dissenters. Hers was 
the one recognized religion, and the fervor of her priesthood 
knew no bounds. So long as the Saracens themselves ruled in 
Syria and Palestine all went smoothly. The pilgrims to the 
shrine were favorably received, courteously treated, and en- 
couraged to come again or send others. The fact that each 
one was roundly taxed for the privilege, and required to pay very 
heavy duty on every relic he might carry away, is sufficient ex- 
planation of the fact. The pilgrims were a source of very con- 
siderable revenue to the Saracens. They did no possible harm, 
brought in much money; took away nothing but valueless palm 
branches or splinters of wood, relics for which they gave pre- 
posterous sums ; the Saracens were shrewd money-getters and 
quick to appreciate their advantage. They even took especial 
care of the sacred sepulchre, hunted up and preserved all pos- 
sible mementos of the pure and humble Saviour whom their 

(197) 



198 JERUSALEM. 

predecessors had crucified and scourged a thousand years 
before. The possession of Jerusalem within whose walls His 
youthful voice had so early astonished the elders and wise men ; 
the Mount of Olives where the sweetest sermon ever preached 
to mortal ears, fell from His gentle and loving lips ; the stony 
height of blasted Calvary where in patient, uncomplaining agony 
His bitter torture was endured — all these were gold to the fol- 
lowers of the prophet, and for centuries the pious contributions 
of pilgrims and palmers might have continued to swell the 
Saracen treasury had not a sudden foe swept down upon and 
robbed them of Syria and Palestine. The Turcomans, a rude, 
half-savage tribe of Tartars, rushed over the boundaries and 
gained Jerusalem. 

These short-sighted marauders looked with jeering laughter 
at the prostration of the Western pilgrims before the shrine ; 
then rudely hustled the Christians to one side and contemptu- 
ously overturned or defaced the sacred relics themselves. Then 
came systematic insult, robbery, extortion and outrage to the 
pilgrims, among whom even delicately nurtured women were 
now to be found ; and those who managed to escape hurried 
back to the seat of the Christian church at Rome and told their 
sorrowful story at the throne of the pope. 

The immediate cause of the ensuing wars was simply this. 
All Christendom was dismayed and outraged at the idea of 
leaving the holy sepulchre, the holy city, the holy land of Pales- 
tine which had been blessed by the teachings of the Saviour, in 
the possession of a set of infidel Turks who scoffed and derided 
the very mysteries which were held most sacred. There was no 
lack of faith in those days. Wherever the influence of the 
Church of Rome extended, the name of Jesus Christ was wor- 
shipped as that of the Son of God and the Saviour of mankind, 
and when hundreds of religious enthusiasts returned to Rome 
telling of the indignity with which they had been treated and 
the double outrage which had been heaped upon them simply 
because they were followers of Christ, it was an easy matter to 
rouse the religious fervor of an entire continent to the rescue of 
the relics deemed sacred beyond all price. It seemed as though 



PETER THE HERMIT APPEARS. J 99 

the very hand of God pointed to Jerusalem demanding the 
banishment of every unbeliever from her walls, and the future 
protection and honor of the tomb of the beloved Son in whom 
rested the redemption of the world. 

Pope Gregory VII., when at the head of the church on earth, 
fired by holy zeal and a desire to make the cause supreme, had 
conceived the idea of making a grand union of Christianity 
against Mahometism. His unpopularity among the princes of 
the various nations stood in his way, however, and it was left for 
a very different man to assume the original leadership — Peter 
the Hermit. 

Originally a soldier, Peter of Amiens had become a recluse; 
had made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem ; had been a witness to 
the extortions, wrongs and indignities heaped upon his brethren 
in the faith, and, after consultation with Simeon, the patriarch 
of Jerusalem, he had returned and laid the matter before Pope 
Martin II. at Rome. Both he and Simeon implored earnest 
and united action. The pope was ready and willing. He sent 
Peter to the cities of Italy; convened a council at Placentia, which 
was attended by 4,000 ecclesiastics and 30,000 other persons, 
and which resulted in a declaration of war against the infidels of 
Jerusalem on the part of Italy. But greater force than Italy 
could raise would be needed. Peter went forward into France, 
exhorting, haranguing everywhere. A greater council was 
called and met at Clermont in Auvergne. Pope Martin himself 
went thither, and under the influence of his eloquence and th< 
fiery preachings of Peter the multitude burst forth into one 
unanimous appeal for war. " It is the will of God! " and these 
words became the rallying cry on many a subsequent battle- 
field. 

The organization of the forces began at once. As a badge 
of their loyalty to the holy cause the volunteers, as they all were, 
adopted the cross itself, and this badge, displayed upon the 
right shoulder of their cloaks or the breasts of the armor, was 
henceforth the designation of their faith and their loyalty — Les 
croisis, the men of the cross, they called themselves, and their 
cause became — The Crusade. 



2Q0 JERUSALEM. 

It was a time when the priests of the church had gained their 
greatest power over all classes. There was little restraint of 
either law or honor. Crime and disorder were rife, and the un- 
educated believed that expiation for any excess or outrage could 
be found in the observances of the church. A holy war meant 
universal absolution to those who engaged therein on the side 
of the Cross, and all over Western Europe thousands swarmed 
to the banners of the pope. It was the sure road to heaven. 
Nobles, workmen, peasants, priests, all came eagerly forward to 
swell the ranks. Even women, disguised in armor, obtained 
admission in the rapidly raised armies — so rapidly raised, in 
fact, that the numbers became troublesome ; and an advanced 
guard of 300,000 men, led by Peter the Hermit and Walter the 
Moneyless, was ordered to push eastward through Germany, 
Hungary and Bulgaria. At first this large body of utterly un- 
disciplined campaigners managed to subsist on the free-will 
offerings of the Germans and Hungarians; but they soon took 
to plundering, then to besieging unprepared cities, and it then 
resulted that the nations attacked them in strong force, slew 
thousands among them, and only a badly shattered remnant 
succeeded in reaching Constantinople. Here, encouraged by 
the gifts of Alexis Comnenus, the emperor, some pressed for- 
ward across the Bosphorus. Others waited for the main bodies 
which, under experienced soldiers and in far better discipline, 
speedily followed the pioneers. It was not long before an army 
of 700,000 men, mainly from France and Germany, had assem- 
bled on the plains of Asia Minor ; but, before that took place, 
the eager advanced guard, under Peter the Hermit, had sus- 
tained terrible reverses at Nicaea, which subsequently became 
the scene of so severe a conflict. 

The great leaders of the First Crusade were Godfrey of 
Bouillon; Hugh of Vermandois ; Raymond of Toulouse; 
Stephen of Blois ; Tancred and the Dukes Robert of Nor- 
mandy and Flanders. The first-named followed with 80,000 
men, soon after the advance-guard of Peter the Hermit. He 
was the leader of the cavaliers of Europe. Godfrey, in 1096, 
took the same route as followed by Peter's rabble, but went 



GODFREY LEADS THE GRAND ASSAULT. 201 

through in admirable order and with the respect of the people 
whose countries he traversed. The Count of Vermandois took 
his followers by sea and met with shipwreck and misfortune. 
Raymond of Toulouse, Stephen of Blois, and Robert of Nor- 
mandy, all managed to lead their people across Europe into 
Asia Minor; and at last the junction of the forces was effected, 
and 700,000 soldiers of the Cross were gathered near Nicaea, the 
ancient capital of Bithynia. This city was only captured after a 
siege of two months. Then, fighting their way, the crusaders 
pushed on eastward, through Asia Minor, until they came to 
Syria, and here, near the northern border, barring the way to 
Jerusalem, lay the walled city of Antioch, a fortress in itself. 
A long, tedious and bloody siege detained them. They won the 
city, were besieged in turn, and finally gained a great victory 
over the Turks. They were delayed at Antioch a year ; and it 
was not until the 14th of July, 1099, that the crusaders were 
finally led by Godfrey of Bouillon to the great assault of 
Jerusalem. 

Over a month had been spent in vigorous preparation, and 
some ill-directed attacks had been made, but the Genoese build- 
ers finally completed strong scaling-towers, to be run up against 
the solid walls ; and then, guided by their priesthood, the great 
army of the crusaders, with bared feet, made a circuit of the city, 
prostrating themselves at every place made sacred by the teach- 
ings or sufferings of their Saviour; their rage against the infidels 
being added to, every instant by the insults and abuse hurled at 
them from the walls. Then, early on the morning of July 14th, 
the attack began. 

It must be remembered that in the army of the crusaders no 
one knight or noble enjoyed supreme command. Any impor- 
tant move or enterprise was determined by a council of the 
leaders, and these leaders were many. Originally the Normans, 
Flemings and Italians, under Robert of Normandy, Robert of 
Flanders, and the brave and zealous Tancred took ground against 
the north walls of the city, investing the whole length of that 
front. Next to them, farther west, were the English, said to have 
been led by Edgar Atheling ; then the Bretons, under their duke. 



202 JERUSALEM. 

These seem to have fronted the walls of the northwest side, and 
close beside them, between the road leading to Joppa, on the 
sea-coast, and the great highway to Damascus, up the valley, 
Godfrey of Bouillon and Baldwin du Bourg had encamped 
their followers. Here, if anywhere, could be said to be the 
head-quarters of the siege, as to the south of their camp, and 
investing the city from the west, were the crusaders of Toulouse, 
and the men of Orange and Beam. The eastern and southern 
fronts had not been formally besieged, the deep valleys there 
lying being regarded as obstacles. 

But the infidels of Jerusalem had been as active as their 
assailants. They, too, had been preparing engines of war, and 
all manner of devices for resisting attack* The north and west 
walls were greatly strengthened, and, at the last moment, the 
plans of the besiegers were changed. The two Dukes Robert 
and their associate, Tancred, moved over to the eastward, be- 
tween the gate of Damascus and the tall angular stone structure 
soon to be known as Tancred's Tower. Godfrey of Bouillon 
marched his men opposite the gate of Cedar, and, in the dark- 
ness of night, all their machines of war, even two huge towers, 
had been dragged over to the new positions with them. Duke 
Raymond, too, had swung round so as to assault from the south; 
and, at the first dawn of day, the defenders of the city were 
aghast to see that now they were threatened at entirely unex- 
pected and almost unprepared points. 

There were natural defences on their side, however. Deep 
ravines lay under the southern walls, supplying the place of a 
moat or ditch, which, had one been dug around the entire city, 
would have vastly added to the difficulties of the siege. By in- 
credible labor, however, the crusaders filled up a part of the 
ravine with stones, and, by working day and night for forty- 
eight hours, succeeded in running the towers close to the walls. 
Then all was ready for assault. The sun was not up on the 
morning of that memorable Thursday, the 14th of July, when 
Godfrey of Bouillon, with his brother Eustache, and Baldwin 
du Bourg took station on the highest platform of his tower, sur- 
rounded by a score of armed and eager knights, and gave the 
signal to begin. 



ENTHUSIASM OF THE BESIEGERS. 203 

Instantly from every tower, from all over the dry. parched, 
desolate slopes around the holy city, the clarions and trumpets 
rang out their loud peal, and the voices of thousands of stalwart 
men joined in mighty chorus. On the south, east and north of 
the city the three massive towers were slowly, heavily pried and 
dragged towards the walls, bristling as they were, on every 
floor, with spears, swords and battle-axes. All who manned 
them were meant for close combat and were clad in metal armor. 
At intervals along the walls, holding their shields above their 
heads, strong bodies of active men rushed in, dragging with them 
the clumsy battering-rams, and then quickly covering them and 
their workers with awnings of plank, hide and shields. Where 
the ground outside was high, dozens of daring and adventurous 
spirits ran in, bearing light scaling ladders, and strove in this 
way to reach the parapets. Here, of course, lay the greatest 
danger; but, to protect these men, the "forlorn hope" of the as- 
sault, the entire wall was surrounded by thousands upon thou- 
sands of expert slingers and cross-bowmen, who kept up an in- 
cessant shower of stones and arrows upon the ramparts, while at 
intervals among them were stationed the rude artillery of the 
day, pedereros and mangonels, for hurling heavy rocks ; or cata- 
pults, that projected great darts. None were reliable or effec- 
tive over three hundred paces. The bowmen were the real 
sharp-shooters and most efficient of the second line of the 
besiegers. 

Furious, inspired, enthusiastic as was the assault of the allied 
Christians, the advantage lay with the defenders, and vehemently 
did they press it. Among the besiegers there had long been 
desperate suffering for want of water, and exposure day after day 
to the scorching rays of a midsummer sun on these shadeless, 
sandy slopes, had reduced them greatly in numbers and in per- 
sonal strength. Within the walls, however, water and shade had 
not been lacking. All brooks and streams had dried up, but 
the tanks and wells of Jerusalem still held out. As yet, there- 
fore, there had been more suffering among the Christians than 
the Turks, and now the former were compelled to fight under 
greater disadvantage, for, secure behind their lofty walls, the 



204 JERUSALEM. 

latter had prepared their savage devices to aid them in repelling 
assault. Boiling pitch, boiling oil, huge crates of rocks, wooden 
beams, paving stones, all manner of missiles had been distributed 
around the walls, and now were emptied upon the devoted heads 
of the assailants. 

In vain the archers strove to sweep the Saracens from the bat- 
tlements. They were enabled with very trifling exposure to 
hurl their ponderous devices upon the ladders and platforms of 
the soldiers of Christendom, and to cause terrible suffering and 
loss. Nevertheless the zeal of the knights and nobles never 
flagged. A religious fervor seemed to have seized one and all. 
Wherever a crusader fell, dozens leaped to take his place, and the 
desperate battle went on. Then as the towers were gradually 
worked in close to the walls a terrible element was added to the 
defensive powers of the Turks — Greek-fire — which they poured 
down upon the dry woodwork, and against which the assailants 
had no protection. The great three-storied tower of Raymond 
was soon reduced to ashes, dozens of gallant men dying beside it 
in vain endeavor to extinguish the flames. And though the 
towers of Godfrey and Tancred had not been destroyed, they 
became so crippled that later in the day they could not be moved 
at all, and the hopes of the crusaders were well-nigh crushed. 
Fast as ladders were raised they were hurled down from the 
walls, and though one or two breaches were made by the batter- 
ing rams, the infidels gathered in great force, rushed unex- 
pectedly out upon the crusaders through the gap made by their 
engines, and spread havoc and dismay about them before a suffi- 
cient number of men could rally and whip them back or cut 
them off. Night at last put an end to the bloody work that had 
been going on all the long, hot summer's day, and the cru- 
saders, baffled, wearied and in bitter humiliation, fell back to their 
camps. 

But there was no thought of giving up. Wearied as they 
were, priests and leaders went about the camps exhorting the 
soldiers, promising the sure aid of heaven, and predicting suc- 
cess on the morrow; and when Friday, the 15th, was ushered in, 
with stubborn determination the Christians resumed the attack. 



"FIGHT ON! FIGHT ON!" 



205 



The besieged had received large reinforcements in the shape 
of a host of soldiers from Egypt, and their spirits were greatly 
increased in consequence. From early morning until high noon 
the conflict was simply a repetition of the previous day. The 
wooden towers of Godfrey and of Tancred and the Dukes Robert 
were placed in partial order during the night, and once more 
great efforts were made to push them up to the walls, but they 
advanced in a literal sea of flames, rained down from the fire- 
pots of the Mussulmans, and for hours it was found impossible to 
get them within serviceable distance of the battlements. On 
the south side the Count of Toulouse was using all his artillery 
against the machines of the besieged, who on that front were 
commanded by the Emir of Jerusalem, a man of renowned 
courage, and here, too, all the fresh Egyptian troops were en- 
gaged. On the north Tancred and the Dukes of Normandy 
and Flanders urged on their followers, and eagerly sought means 
to extinguish the flames that were raging before them. Vinegar, 
it is said, would have answered the purpose, but vinegar there 
was none. At last, as noon came, even their towers took fire — 
the last two that remained ; and in despair and exhaustion many 
of the crusaders came reeling back from the walls. Then, with 
savage glee, the Saracens redoubled their taunts and jeers. It 
seemed as though the God of the soldiers of the Cross had in- 
deed abandoned them. 

But suddenly there came a wonderful change. Over on the 
summit of the Mount of Olives, east of the city, and well back 
of the lines on that side, in full view of all the armies of Europe 
fighting on the north, the east and the south sides, there rode 
into view, distinctly outlined against the burning sky, the ap- 
parition of a tall, stalwart horseman, clad in gleaming armor, 
waving his spear and shield and signalling " Fight on ! " Godfrey 
de Bouillon and Raymond caught sight of him at the same in- 
stant, and, springing forward, eagerly pointing towards the mag- 
nificent figure, and with ringing voices making themselves heard 
above the tumult, they shouted " St. George to the rescue. Fight 
on ! Fight on ! " 

With a wonderful revival of hope, courage and enthusiasm the 



206 JERUSALEM. 

crusaders returned to the assault; even the sick rushing into 
the fight, and women and children bringing scant supplies of 
water. At last the flames about the towers seemed to die out, 
possibly the Saracen supply was getting low ; and now, towards 
one in the blazing afternoon the tower of Godfrey is fairly 
lurching up against the eastern wall, and, despite the flights of 
arrows, darts, javelins and fire-pots, its heavy draw-bridge is 
poised in mid-air a few minutes, while the knights are forming 
for their rush, and then it lowers fairly upon the swarming bat- 
tlements. Instantly, preceded only by two daring brothers of 
Tournay, Godfrey of Bouillon dashes across the platform and 
in among the unarmored infidels. He is fully armed, fully 
equipped ; scores of gallant knights are at his back ; they break 
like a torrent through the rabble of Mussulman soldiery, hack- 
ing and hewing right and left ; and now, using the great tower 
as a stairway, hundreds of cheering Christians pour upward in 
their tracks, spreading out right and left as they reach the sum- 
mit of the walls. Almost at the same time, through breaches 
made by their battering-rams, and by means of their scaling- 
ladders, Tancred, the Dukes of Normandy and Flanders, the 
Knights of St. Paul, of Roussillon, of Mousson and Beam hew 
their way in from the north. The gate of St. Stephen is chopped 
in splinters with battle-axes, and Jerusalem is in the power of 
the soldiers of the Cross. East, north and south, now they are 
swarming through or over the walls, and the infidel garrison 
prove that, man to man, steel to steel, they are utterly inferior 
to the valor and strength of Christendom. Even the Emir of 
Jerusalem at last lost heart and fled before the assaults of Ray- 
mond of Toulouse, taking refuge in the fortress of David ; and 
now, from every side, the victorious crusaders are meeting in 
the very centre of the city, embracing one another in a delirium 
of joy. 

Just at three o'clock on that darkened Friday afternoon, 
nearly eleven centuries before, Jesus Christ had died upon the 
cross for the redemption of the world. Just at three o'clock on 
this burning Friday afternoon, the soldiers of the Cross had 
burst through all obstacles and were masters of Jerusalem. No 



THE CRUSADERS TRIUMPHANT. 207 

thought of mercy, no sentiment of pity for helpless women or 
children seem to have been aroused by the coincidence. While 
pious Godfrey and other eminent leaders hastened, barefooted, 
to prostrate themselves with the priests before the holy sepulchre 
itself, thousands of unmanageable and infuriated soldiery gave 
themselves up to the wildest deeds of murder and rapine. For 
one whole week the wretched Saracens were mercilessly hunted 
down. The mosques, where they had taken refuge in swarms, 
were turned into slaughter-pens. Claiming to be actuated in 
their warfare by love of Christ and a desire to restore to Chris- 
tianity the scenes of His sacred ministrations, these tiger-like sol- 
diers forgot His teachings in their fury for vengeance, and over 
seventy thousand Saracens were massacred in the streets and 
homes of the holy city. The Jews fled to their synagogue, and 
the mercy shown them was scant as that to the Mussulmans. 
The crusaders fired the great building and burned them alive. 

And now, for nearly ninety years, the powers of Christendom 
ruled Jerusalem. But it was a troublous and disorderly reign. 
Discords of every kind arose between the Knights of the Tem- 
ple and St. John and the clergy of the city. Religion had in- 
spired the crusade but was forgotten in its triumph. Peter the 
Hermit, who had entered the walls with the conquerors, and 
who was greeted with almost adoring welcome by the few 
Christians then dwellers in Jerusalem, speedily dropped out of 
sight in the dissensions that followed the conquest. Knight and 
prelate seemed now to aim only at plunder. The clergy, who 
had been revered and respected at home, and accustomed to see 
their mandates obeyed, even by the highest ranks, found them- 
selves now thwarted by the knights and soldiery. Then it is 
recorded that religion lost all its former hold on the minds of 
the Christian garrison, and that the immorality of the priesthood 
was the inciting cause, and "the house divided against itself" 
was destined speedily to have its fall. Gallant and true-hearted 
Godfrey died a year after his great victory, leaving to Baldwin, 
his brother, the succession to the throne ; but this was opposed 
by Tancred, and his reign of eighteen years was marred by con- 
stant warfare. Baldwin du Bourg succeeded him and reigned 



208 JERUSALEM. 

till 1 131, and his death was followed by an endless series of dis- 
sensions and disasters, that so reduced the forces of the crusaders 
in the east that they were compelled to implore assistance. A 
grand expedition, organized in 1 146 by the Emperor Conrade 
and by King Louis the Seventh, of France, which resulted in a 
loss of some 200,000 men, relieved them only temporarily. This 
was the Second Crusade, and was simply a continuous disaster, 
from which the monarchs returned to Europe in discouragement 
and discredit. 

Then there arose in the east a new and vigorous leader, a 
prince of Egypt, a brave, politic and powerful soldier. For 
years he had submitted to invasions of his territory, to all man- 
ner of breaches of faith from the divided and quarreling Chris- 
tians in Syria, and at last he determined on putting them out of 
the way and on retaking the capital. He fought a bloody bat- 
tle with them at Tiberias, captured every important city in 
Palestine on his way, and, in overwhelming numbers, appeared 
with his army before Jerusalem, now left with 100,000 inhabi- 
tants, but destitute of a garrison. Despite a brave resistance the 
holy city was captured, but in marked contrast to the conduct 
of the crusaders eighty-seven years before, the helpless inhabi- 
tants were treated with great gentleness and even kindness by 
the Moslem conqueror. Saladin far better deserved the name 
of Christian than thousands of those who employed it as a cover 
for their multitude of sins. In 1187 the Saracens once more 
held the holy city, and, to the dismay of the pope, who is said 
to have died of the shock, and of all Christendom, the sacrifices 
and sufferings, the battles and marches, and the victories and 
sieges of the First and Second Crusades had all been in vain. 
They were utterly set at naught by the overwhelming disasters 
of Tiberias and the recapture of the city of Jerusalem. 




ABMS AND ACCOUTREMENTS OF THE MIDDLE AGES. 

{For description, see next page. ) 



Arms and Accoutrements of the Middle Ages. 

Numbers refer to Illustrations on preceding page. 



I. 


Neck Helmet. 


28. 


Tournament Armor. 1 


2. 


Shoulder and Arm Shield. 


29. 


Blunt Practice Lance. 


3. 


4. Knee Armor. 


30. 


Light Service Lance. 


5- 


Kettle Drum. 


3i- 


Blunt Practice " 


6. 


Long Bow. 


32. 


Light Service " 


7- 


Cross " 


33- 


Double-handed Kris Sword. 


8. 


Arbalest. 


34,35. Ecus, or Shield nth and 


9. 


10, 11. Arrows. 




1 2th Centuries. 


12. 


Herald's Trumpet. 


36. 


Braconniere. 


13- 


Signal Horn. 


37- 


Costume of Knights of 13th 


14. 


Helmet. 




Century. 


15- 


Neck Armor. 


38. 


Dagger. 


16, 


17. Helmets. 


39- 


Stylett. 


18, 


19. Sabres. 


40. 


Martel de Fer. 


20. 


Shield of 13th Century. 


4i. 


Francisques. 


21. 


" " 1 2th " 


42. 


Lochaber Axe. 


22. 


" " nth " 


43- 


Stylett. 


23- 


Helmet of 1 2th « 


44. 


Dagger. 


24. 


Double-handed Long Sword 


45- 


Crow's Foot. 


25, 


26, 27. Battle Lances. 







ACRE. 




1191. 

HE death of King Henry the Second of Eng- 
land, the wisest, best and most powerful of the 
monarchs of the island up to that time, called 
to the throne his eldest legitimate son, Rich- 
ard, a prince who had embittered the last 
years of his father's life by disloyalty and 
open revolt, and whose ingratitude had had 
much to do with bringing about the illness 
which ended that useful and worthy reign. 
Richard the First became King of England in July, 11 89, and 
at this moment all Christendom was in a turmoil of excitement 
over the efforts of the Church of Rome to bring about a third 
Crusade for the final rescue of the holy sepulchre. Saladin was 
in undisputed possession of the Holy Land, excepting the foot- 
hold still retained by the soldiers of the Cross around the walls 
of Ptolemais, an important harbor and fortress on the sea-coast, 
soon known to history as Acre, or, in full, St. Jean d'Acre. 

Many catastrophes and disasters had overtaken the various 
armies of crusaders that had set forth for the rescue of Jerusalem. 
Thousands of brave knights and true noblemen had laid down 
their lives ; hundreds of thousands of rude and brutal soldiery 
had never returned, to the no great loss of their native coun- 
tries ; but the Church of Rome had been vastly benefited finan- 
cially by the Crusades ; the plunder of many a rich city had been 
laid at the feet of the popes, and quite as much on this account 
perhaps as from zeal against the infidels or true devotion to the 
cause of Christianity the priests of the Romish church were tire- 
less in their importunities, and their instructions doubtless came 

(209) 



210 ACRE. 

from the Sovereign Pontiff. Every ruler of power or prominence 
was incessantly urged by the priesthood to equip and send east- 
ward all the soldiers of his realm, and join in the great work of 
exterminating the infidel Mussulman and restoring the Christian 
throne at Jerusalem; and now that Richard of England had 
gained his crown, the very man they needed stood only too 
ready to lend an ear to their appeal. 

More from love of military glory, and an unbounded pride in 
his own physical skill and strength, than any. depth of religious 
feeling, the young king was prompt to act. It seemed from the 
very first as though the main purpose of his government had 
been the recovery of Jerusalem, and the very day of his corona- 
tion was marked by an awful outrage at the expense of thousands 
of defenceless Jews in his kingdom. He had forbidden their 
appearance at the ceremony, but, with the fatuity of their race, 
a number of their wealthiest representatives believed that by 
coming with valuable presents they would be recognized, ad- 
mitted, and probably succeed in establishing more cordial rela- 
tions with the soldierly young monarch. But almost all the 
spendthrift nobility, and scores of the officers and soldiers, were 
" in the hands of the Jews," and, grasping, merciless creditors as 
the Israelites had been, there was every feeling against them. 
Richard's order gave his guards an excuse to drive the importu- 
nate delegation into the streets ; the Jews ran in terror ; the sol- 
diers pursued in cruel delight, and, like wildfire, a cry went up 
that the new king had ordered that the Crusade begin at home 
and that the Jews be massacred forthwith. The mob of London 
was let loose upon the wretched Hebrews ; they were slaughtered 
without mercy ; their wives and daughters were outraged and 
slain ; their hoarded wealth scattered to the winds, and, once 
started, the rabble knew not where to stop. The homes of 
wealthy Christians were next sacked and burned, and for some 
days the scenes of riot and confusion baffled all description. The 
story flew to the provinces. At the city of York 500 Jews had 
taken refuge in the castle and made for a time a vigorous defence, 
but, finding their efforts unavailing, and that the mob were gain- 
ing ground every instant, the poor, helpless creatures first killed 



RICHARD'S AMBITION. 211 

their own wives and children, then set fire to the castle and died 
in the flames. It is said that the nobility and gentry, most of 
whom were indebted to the Jews, now ran to the cathedral where 
their bonds were kept, and, with much solemn rejoicing, made a 
huge bonfire of them before the altar. Richard had indeed be- 
gun his Crusade at home. 

And now, though he had a large fortune inherited from his 
father, King Richard virtually mortgaged his kingdom in order 
to raise immense sums to enable him to carry on the war. He 
meant to be the hero of the Third Crusade, and to win a glory 
and record before which the names of Godfrey, Tancred and Ray- 
mond would fade into insignificance. He sold the offices of trust 
and profit ; he sold the revenues and manors of the crown ; he 
released the pledged soldiers of the Cross from their vows on 
payment of ransom-money, and by all manner of exactions and 
oppressions ground money from the English people of every 
rank. It was with the utmost relief they finally saw him started 
with his gorgeous retinue, the richest prince that had yet taken 
the field in the service of the Cross. 

Already the Emperor Frederick, with 150,000 men, had started 
for Palestine. His army was subjected to much hardship and 
was greatly reduced by the time he reached Syria, where he 
himself died of a sudden fever, and Prince Conrade, his son, 
pushed on to the Holy Land, arriving there finally with less 
than 10,000 effectives. So many severe lessons had thus been 
taught the crusaders of the danger and difficulty of marching all 
the way, that now the allied Kings of England and France de- 
termined to try the voyage by sea. With this view the com- 
bined armies, numbering in all 100,000 men, were encamped at 
Vezelay, on the borders of Burgundy, and here Kings Richard 
and Philip pledged to each other cordial friendship, the fealty 
of their knights and barons, their faith and honor for the de- 
termined prosecution of the Crusade, and mutual agreements not 
to permit the invasion of each other's kingdoms by their sub- 
jects during this absence from home ; and, with such apparently 
complete understanding, each at the head of his own army 
marched to the point where he was to meet his fleet — Philip 



212 ACRE. 

going to Genoa, Richard to Marseilles. Both put to sea about 
the 14th of September, 1 190. Both were driven by storms to 
put into the harbor of Messina. There they were detained all 
winter, and there discord arose between them. 

Both kings were haughty, ambitious, eager for glory, and 
more or less unscrupulous. Rivals from the outset as soldiers, 
they now became embroiled in their family relations. There 
had been a time when King Richard was expected to marry 
Princess Alice of France. Now he refused to do so, and an- 
nounced his determination of marrying Berengaria of Navarre. 
King Philip had to consent, but with infinite anger, and his re- 
jected sister was left in France, while Berengaria, Queen of 
England, accompanied the great expedition to Palestine. Broils 
and battles had sprung up between the French and English sol- 
diers while at Messina, and no love was lost between the rival 
hosts when, in the spring, the French set sail for the Holy Land, 
leaving King Richard waiting for his expected bride before he 
would consent to start. 

All this time Ptolemais or Acre had been the scene of a 
vehement conflict. Inside the walls, and bravely, skillfully de- 
fending it, was a strong garrison under the Saracen Caracos, a 
veteran and distinguished soldier. Outside the walls, closely 
investing them and fighting with determined courage, were the 
united forces of all the crusaders left in Palestine. A large and 
vigorous army, but — it lay between two fires. Saladin himself 
with a powerful host, mainly of well-trained horsemen, lay around 
the camp of the invaders, and even while they were surround- 
ing and hemming in and hammering away at the garrison of 
Acre they themselves, besieging, were besieged. Saladin was 
vigilant, vehement in his tactics, striking incessantly at every 
exposed point on their lines, and utterly hampering the Chris- 
tians in their prosecution of the siege. This was the state 
of affairs when the fleet of King Philip appeared off the har- 
bor of Acre, and was soon followed by that of Richard of 
England. 

The arrival of such powerful reinforcements gave infinite hope 
to the well-ni«;h exhausted besiegers. If concert of action could 




KNIGHTS TEMPLAB. 




1SNIGHTS OP ST. JOHN. 




FBENCH KNIGHT AND SQUIBE. BBOTHEES OF THE SWOED. 

HISTORIC WAR DEESS. 



KNIGHTLY CONDUCT OF SALADIN. 213 

be maintained, there was now every prospect of success. It was 
arranged that the new armies should alternate in their duties; 
that while the English on one day attacked the city, the French 
should guard the camps against the assaults of Saladin, and, in 
the rivalry that arose, deeds of prodigious valor were soon the 
theme of every tongue. Richard himself became the hero of 
the siege. Personally of superb courage and strength, he won 
the devoted admiration of his soldiers by his fearless exposure 
and impetuous bravery, and as speedily became the object of 
the intense hatred of his insidious and envious rival. 

The great camp of the crusaders spread like a fortified city 
over the plain which surrounded Acre. It was divided up by 
streets, and in many places substantial houses had been built in 
place of the lighter tents. Each nation had its separate ward or 
quarter, and its own arms, armor and language. An almost 
Babel-like variety of tongues prevailed, but at the signal for bat- 
tle there was unanimity and combined effort. With the armies 
of Richard and Philip fairly at work, there could be but short 
life for Acre, and the reduction of the city seemed now but a 
question of a few days. 

But here the consequences of Philip's jealousy and his insidi- 
ous stabs at his braver rival began to tell upon the latter. 
Some of Richard's own trusted knights became estranged. 
Then Philip fell ill, and accused Richard of having poisoned his 
food. Then King Richard was prostrated by a mysterious 
malady, and really believed that his rival was in some way the 
cause of it. The garrison of Acre quickly saw that the direct- 
ing head and arm of the siege was no longer at the front, took 
heart again and redoubled their efforts. A curious feature of 
the war was the conduct of Saladin at this juncture. He was 
far more knightly and chivalric than many a knight of Christen- 
dom ; and when he learned that both the rival monarchs were 
ill, his own physicians, skilled in the treatment of local maladies, 
were sent with medicines to their succor. This was so glaring 
an innovation on the practices of war that, while at first con- 
founded by such delicate attentions, both monarchs sent mes- 
sages of thanks. This led to frequent inquiries from Saladin as 



214 



ACRE. 



to how his royal patients were progressing, and to courteous 
and grateful responses from both the bed-ridden kings. Then 
they accused each other of holding communication with the 
enemy. There was something very puerile about it. 

Two general assaults had been made on the walls, and both 
times the crusaders had been so harassed by simultaneous 
attacks from outside by Saladin, that they were able to throw 
only hampered effort into the attempts, and were beaten back. 
Nevertheless the walls were crumbling under their repeated 
blows ; famine and disease had weakened the garrison; many had 
been killed, and Saladin could in no way replace them ; there 
were no longer men enough to man and work the ponderous 
garrison artillery; stones and other missiles were getting scarce; 
the supply of Greek-fire was giving out; all their oil and lead 
had long since been boiled and poured in death-dealing tor- 
rents on the besiegers, and at last the garrison proposed a 
capitulation. 

The answer was a demand for the surrender by the Saracens 
of all the cities they had captured since their great victory at 
Tiberias. A prompt refusal was given, and the Saracens nerved 
themselves for a last effort. 

And now followed several days of incessant and terrific fight- 
ing, which was but a repetition of that witnessed at Jerusalem. 
In one magnificent assault a noble knight of Florence succeeded 
in cutting down and carrying off the Moslem standard, and Al- 
beric Clement, Marshal of France, sword in hand, cut his way 
well into the city before he fell, hacked to death. Stephen of 
Blois and many other knights were burned to cinders by Greek- 
fire which they could not escape, and throughout the ranks of 
the crusaders there had been heavy loss. But by this time the 
last energies of the garrison were spent. Some few emirs 
managed to escape at night by the harbor, but the starving 
remnant at last renewed their offer of surrender. Throwing 
themselves on the mercy of the Christians, they agreed, if their 
lives were spared, that 1,600 Christian prisoners should be given 
up, together with the wood of the true cross, and to pay an 
immense sum in gold. The garrison and the whole population 



END OF THE BLOODY SIEGE. 215 

were to remain as hostages in the hands of the crusaders until 
this ransom was paid by their Saracen friends. 

But now, according to some accounts, there fell the one blot 
upon the name of the knightly and gallant Saladin. Apprised 
of the surrender and the terms just as he was making a final effort 
to relieve the city, he demurred about the payment of the sum 
required, temporized for days on one pretence or another, until 
at last Richard of England, in a fit of rage, ordered the imme- 
diate slaughter of 5,000 defenceless prisoners, as a means of 
bringing the Saracen to terms, and the inhuman order was car- 
ried out in full view of the chieftain, whose vacillation and cu- 
pidity had brought it about. 

This was the end of the long and bloody siege of Acre. For 
three years the city had held out against the fleets and armies 
of the crusaders, who had spilled a sea of blood around its walls. 
Nine determined battles had been fought between the Christians 
and Saracens in sight of its towers. Hundreds of spirited skir- 
mishes had occurred between the outposts and the cavalry of 
Saladin. Thousands of valuable lives and countless treasure 
had been sacrificed, and all to no real purpose. 

Philip, disheartened and wearied, decided to return to France, 
leaving Richard in sole command, and the latter saw before him 
a tremendous undertaking. He had yet to march down the sea- 
coast, reduce the fortress of Ascalon, and fight his way to the 
walls of Jerusalem. The war was now to be fought between 
Richard and Saladin, beyond all question the two greatest sol- 
diers of the day. 

With a much reduced but still formidable army, the King of 
England, after the fall of Acre, marched upon Ascalon, the scene 
of his greatest personal triumphs. With 300,000 fighting men, 
Saladin threw himself across his path, and now ensued that 
series of desperate combats that made the wars of the crusades 
for centuries the theme of minstrels' songs and written pages. 
Near Ascalon, at Azotus, occurred the most brilliant and glori- 
ous of great Richard's battles; for here, when the fortunes of the 
day were utterly against him, when both his right and left wings 
were routed and well-nigh gone, the hero of England rode into 



216 ACRE. 

the very van of the battle, leading the still steadfast centre, and 
there, with sword and battle-axe, doing appalling execution 
among the Saracens, reanimating his followers, giving his wings 
time to retake breath and rally, snatching victory from the jaws 
of defeat and winning for himself the immortal name by which 
he was ever after known : Richard Cceur de Lion — Richard of 
the Lion Heart. Eight thousand Saracens were stretched dead 
upon the sands of Palestine on that eventful day. Ascalon went 
down before the crusaders, and then they turned upon Jerusalem. 

But here at last his armies failed him. First, to curry favor 
with their own monarch, some of the prominent French leaders 
abandoned the campaign. Then whole battalions of the soldiers 
declared themselves unable to longer continue the contest in 
that parched and desolate land. The English, too, began to 
waver and fall back, and at the very moment when King Rich- 
ard saw before him the towers of the holy city and the long 
hoped-for opportunity of retaking it, he realized that his force 
was no longer sufficient to warrant the attempt. But his victo- 
ries had given him the ascendency over Saladin, and that chief 
was glad to conclude a truce, by the terms of which he agreed 
to leave Acre, Joppa and the sea-ports of Palestine in the hands 
of the Christians, and that every pilgrim or crusader should be 
permitted now to visit, unmolested, the shrine at Jerusalem. 
This treaty was to remain in force three years, three months, 
three weeks, three days and three hours — " a magical number," 
suggested by the superstitions of the crusaders. 

Long before the expiration of the truce, brave Saladin died at 
Damascus, and Richard, his great conqueror, was a prisoner in 
Germany. Betrayed by his brother John, and intrigued against 
by his relentless rival, King Philip, the lion-hearted king had 
great difficulty in making his way back to England ; but once 
there, his people rallied enthusiastically to his support, his 
brother grovelled at his feet for pardon, and obtained it through 
the intercession of his mother, Queen Eleanor ; but before he 
was enabled to punish and humble King Philip, an arrow-wound 
in the shoulder inflamed, gangrene set in, and on the 6th of 
April, 1 199, in the tenth year of his martial reign, and the forty- 



ACRE. 



217 



second of his adventurous life, Richard Cceur de Lion lay dead, 
and the Crusades soon died out with these, their greatest lead- 
ers. Long afterwards other expeditions were sent to the holy 
land, the most notable being that of King Louis the Ninth, of 
France, universally known as Saint Louis, who finally died of 
the pestilence, which was ravaging the shores of Africa when 
he led his armies thither against the western possessions of the 
infidels. The Crusades ended with his death, in 1270. 




ATTACK ON THE WALLS OF ACRE. 



CRESSY. 




1346. 



!N the 26th of August, 1346, was fought a gal-' 
lant battle that, though marking no historical 
movement of nations or peoples, and though 
not being one of the decisive battles of the 
world, is memorable as the beginning of a 
military epoch. Light artillery had its bap- 
tism on that hard-fought field. 

Siege-guns had been known for years. 
Gunpowder had been used for centuries by 
the Chinese, the Hindoos, the Arabs, the Moors, who brought 
it to Spain. Siege-guns, clumsy and rude, to be sure, but guns 
for all that, had grown into use all over Christendom ; but when 
Berthold Schwartz stumbled upon the principle of granulating 
the thin dust of the ancients, he contrived an explosive so pow- 
erful, that it gave him the name of inventor. Only twenty-six 
years before Cressy did he hit upon this improvement. Then 
new guns sprang into use all over western Europe. Crude 
things they were ; and those which have made this battle the 
light artillerist's initial point, were not much larger and no more 
formidable than the duck-gun of to-day. Much time, trouble 
and muscle were expended in lugging the piece into action, and 
then all who could do so stood aside, when finally this pioneer- 
gun discharged its contents towards the enemy. But so little 
were they trusted, so long did they take to load, to aim and to 
shoot, and so utterly uncertain was it which way the charge 
would go, that though Cressy saw the introduction of field- 
artillery, and is renowned for that fact, and for the hard, honest, 
stubborn fighting that was done there, it seems that very little 
(218) 




THE BATTLE OF CRESSY.— A, de Neuville. 



ENGLAND INVADES FRANCE 219 

part did the artillery play in the varying fortunes of the day. 
Indeed, the French forgot theirs altogether. 

Edward the Third was King of England, and, as was usual in 
the days succeeding the Crusades, there was strife twixt Eng- 
land and France. It took several centuries to settle their diffi- 
culties, but the immediate cause of the war of 1346 seems still 
to be a matter of dispute between the historians of the respec- 
tive nations. Each lays the blame upon the other. Three 
years previously King Edward was in France with a small army 
of 12,000 men, acting in defence of the Countess of Mountfort. 
He was besieged by a much larger force, and was very glad to 
listen to the entreaties of the messengers of the Pope of Rome, 
who was anxious to put an end to hostilities. A treaty was 
entered into for a three years' truce. Edward went back to 
England, and even an English historian (Hume) says that he 
never meant to keep the peace. He certainly was the first 
aggressor, and Parliament, in 1344, voted him supplies to con- 
tinue the war, and urged him not to be deterred " by a fraudu- 
lent truce." 

Edward therefore sent an army under command of his own 
cousin, the Earl of Derby, into Guienne ; the earl attacked and 
beat the French in several sharp engagements, until an over- 
powering force came against him, when he begged for aid from 
home. King Edward was eager and ready. He longed for a 
pretext for the reinvasion of France. He had at Southampton, 
all prepared, a fleet of a thousand sail ; and now with all the 
chief nobility of England, with his own brave boy, the Prince of 
Wales, then but sixteen years old, and with a powerful army he 
landed at La Hogue on the 12th of July. 

His original destination had been the shores of Guienne, on 
the southwestern coast of France, adjacent to the Bay of Biscay, 
but prudent advisers pointed out the fact that all the French 
troops were now concentrated thereabouts, and that he would 
find the northern provinces well-nigh defenceless, and he readily 
changed his plan. The harbors of La Hogue, Cherbourg and 
Barfleur lay close together, and ajrnost immediately he had pos- 
session of all three. 



"220 CRESSY. 

The army of King Edward was a mixed array. There were 
4,000 " men-at-arms ;" 10,000 archers ; 10,000 Welsh and 6,000 
Irish infantry. The men-at-arms and archers were mainly native 
English. They were the regulars — the disciplined and most 
reliable troops. But the Welsh and Irish, though turbulent and 
disorderly, were very effective light troops and foragers, and did 
fearful service in the ravaging work on which King Edward 
entered forthwith. The men-at-arms were all finely mounted 
and heavily equipped. The archers were lightly clad and 
protected, were swift of foot and tolerably good marksmen. 
But one and all these soldiers were let loose over northern 
France "with orders to plunder, burn and destroy — spreading 
east and west during the day but reuniting at central points at 
night. 

Eager to popularize the invasion among his nobles, King 
Edward appointed the Earl of Arundel constable of the army ; 
the Earls of Warwick and Harcourt marshals, and several of the 
younger lords, among them the Prince of Wales, were named 
knights. The order of knighthood was dearly prized among 
the younger soldiers, for the traditions of the Crusades and 
the glorious deeds of their forefathers were fresh in the minds 
of all. 

The first large city to fall before the English was Caen. A 
defence had been attempted in the open field (for the city was 
unfortified), but the hastily gathered garrison were no match for 
the invaders. They broke, ran pell-mell back into the city with 
the English among them or at their heels, and then began a 
brutal massacre of the people — men, women and children being 
furiously slaughtered. It was soon checked by Edward's young 
knights, but the pillage went on. In three days the city was 
sacked of all its treasure ; money, plate, jewels, silks, etc., were 
shipped back to England, together with 300 of the richest citizens 
as prisoners. Then the English turned on the grand old city of 
Rouen, but the French had destroyed the bridge, and King 
Philip of France had hastened from Paris with a good-sized 
army and held the east bank of the Seine. They could not 
cross. 



"LET HIM WIN HIS SPURS." 221 

But they went on up the valley, even as far as the gates of 
Paris, some few of them. They burned the beautiful palace of 
St. Germain. They destroyed many peaceful villages. Then 
Edward saw that great forces were gathering to surround him, 
trapped as he was far from the ships and the shores. He knew 
that he must get back by a short cut across the Seine. His ready 
wits enabled him to delude the French, to quickly rebuild the 
bridge at Poissy and then to strike north for the coast. Still 
he had desperate danger to encounter, but wit and courage again 
helped him, and at last — breathless, dripping with the waters of 
the river Somme through which he and his men had plunged, 
but whose rising tide balked the vehemence of the pursuit — he 
halted on the slopes of Crecy, as it was called by the French, the 
sparkling waters of the English Channel at his back, and all 
France pressing after him in chase. 

But France had to stop and hunt for bridges, and the King 
of England had a day to himself. A born fighter was Edward 
the Third, and though four times his force would be on him on 
the morrow, he never flinched or lost heart. 

In three lines he drew up his army on a gentle slope near little 
Cressy. In front of the first, at intervals along the line, he 
placed his few clumsy field-guns, and supporting them, com- 
manding his exposed advance, he stationed the gallant boy in 
whom his hopes were centred. " Let him win his spurs," said 
the stern father ; " I can name him knight — he alone can make 
himself a true one." 

But he gave the boy his noblest earls to back him — Harcourt, 
Oxford, Warwick, and there too were Lords Chandos and Hol- 
land. Brave noblemen were stationed with the second line. 
The king himself took the third. From the high ground be- 
hind he meant to overlook the fight, and only plunge in with 
his reserve just when and where it should be needed to turn the 
issue of a doubtful fight. He covered the flanks with trenches, 
and his baggage, drawn up in the wood behind the crest, was 
similarly protected. 

Everything was done so quietly and methodically that the 
soldiers gained confidence despite the fearful odds ; but when 



222 CRESSY. 

their king rode around through the ranks exhorting them to be 
steadfast and of good cheer — to fight as they saw his son fight — 
they gained enthusiasm with every word. He would ask noth- 
ing of his soldiers that he would not ask of the heir to his 
throne. 

And so in easy composure the English watched the tumul- 
tuous approach of the French, still some miles away towards 
Abbeville, but pouring over the bridge and deploying across 
the open ground that lay towards the Somme. A brisk shower 
of rain swept over the scene as the first line of the French moved 
forward. King Edward's archers coolly slipped their bows back 
within their covers — and waited. The opposing line, all bow- 
men, Genoese, came on in eager haste, and let their bowstrings 
soak. It was a fatal oversight. 

There were 15,000 of these Genoese crossbowmen, led by Doria 
and Grimaldi. Behind them came a second line, led by the Count 
of Alencon, King Philip's brother. The king himself led the 
third line, and with his army were three other crowned heads — 
those of the Kings of Bohemia, of the Romans, and of Majorca. 
All the nobility of France were there, and over 100,000 soldiery- 
In great haste, in bitter hatred, in disorder and fatigue, they in- 
sisted on rushing in to the attack and extermination of the 
little army of invaders that had worked such havoc among their 
homes. They never doubted the issue. 

Just at three o'clock in the afternoon of this showery August 
day, the eager lines of France begin the ascent of the slope. 
The rain has ceased for the time being, and now as their oppo- 
nents come within range, the bowmen of England draw forth 
their weapons. A moment more, and, as with one accord, the 
Genoese crossbows are raised to the shoulders of the advancing 
line ; then the air is filled with thousands of bolts whizzing up 
the slope, but to the dismay of the French, to the glee and 
ridicule of the islanders, not one reaches its mark. The wet, 
limp bow-strings refuse to perform their work, the missiles pass 
harmlessly into the sward. Then comes the answer. With 
jeering laughter, but practised aim, the English archers let 
drive their barbed flights into the dense masses of the wavering 



THE STRUGGLE BEGINS. 223 

Genoese. In vain the leaders spring to the front and strive to 
urge them on. They are aghast at the failure of the only weapon 
they know how to use ; they are falling by scores under the un- 
erring aim of the English. They are thrown into utter confu- 
sion, and, to the amaze of the crowding and over confident 
soldiers of the lines behind them, they begin to surge back. 

Instantly the gallant young Prince of Wales pricks spurs to 
his horse, and with joyous shout calls to his nobles and his 
whole line to follow him, and with cheers and exultation they 
charge down the slope upon the hapless allies of France. And 
now in good earnest back go the crossbowmen — back into the 
very faces of the second line — back upon the knights and armored 
cavalry of the Count of Alencon. Enraged at their cowardice, 
the latter orders his horsemen to cut them down. Then, too, 
before the first line of the English passed beyond them, each 
one of their unwieldy guns, it is said, was fired into the strug- 
gling mass, and the charge that followed was doubly successful 
from the consternation thereby produced. The French had 
already seen artillery in siege operations, and Cordova and Gibral- 
tar in Spain had succumbed to stone shot from cumbrous 
engines that vomited fire, smoke and uproar ; but in open battle 
artillery had not yet been used, and the few discharges of the 
English guns must have had at least a moral effect. 

But all the chivalry of France is in that second line under 
Alencon. Full 30,000 gallant knights and gentlemen, skillful 
horsemen and trained foot soldiers, all together now they sweep 
forward, kicking contemptuously out of their way or trampling 
under foot the cowering Genoese, and with the fierce delight of 
battle they meet and envelop the slender line of brave young 
Edward. It is his maiden battle. He well knows that the eyes 
of all England are on him, and with fearless mien and flashing 
sword he spurs into the midst of the group of nobles in the 
opposing centre. He is just sixteen, but, stripling though he is, 
the spirit of a race of kings nerves his arm, and he has the best 
blood of old England at his back. At close quarters now, hand 
to hand, foot to foot, the battle rages, and the Kings of France 
and England under their standards gaze anxiously upon the 



224 



CRESSY. 



struggle. Soon it is yeen that, despite superb courage, the far 
greater numbers of the French are proving too much for young 
Edward's line. And, prompt, impetuous and eager, the Earl of 
Arundel orders in his portion of the second to the rescue, 
Northampton follows st once with his, and fresh horsemen 
from the French third line spur forward to meet them. It is a 
tremendous conflict now. Every inch of ground is fought over 
a dozen times, but ever in the thickest of the fight the glittering 
array of knights surround the mail-clad form of the slender 
young leader. There, at least, there is " no footstep backward." 
The Earl of Warwick, fearing that too great a strain was being 
brought to bear upon his young master, sent word begging the 
king- himself to come to the rescue with all the reserve, but 
though in an agony of anxiety, King Edward gazed steadily at 
the heart of the battle one moment, then — 

" Go back to my son," said he. " Tell him that to him I in- 
trust the honor of the day. He will show himself worthy the 
knighthood I so lately conferred on him. He can, without my 
help, beat back the enemy," and this was the message that came 
to " The Black Prince " in the heat of the battle. 

Never faltering before, ibis seems to have given him heroic 
strength. Calling on all to join him, young Edward once again 
dashed into the midst of thrt attacking line. Knights and nobles 
spur at his back and side. They strike for the brilliant group 
of nobles among the French, and there in short, sharp conflict 
down go the Count of /Mencon,.down go the Kings of Majorca 
and Bohemia (the latter 'tis said by the hand of Prince Edward 
himself, but as the king was blind with old age it is one part of 
the story we would rather not believe). The whole cavalry line 
is thrown into confusion, thousands of riders are unhorsed 
and slain, the savage Welshmen rushing in and cutting their 
throats with knifes as they drag them from their wounded 
horses. 

In vain the King of France spurred forward with his reserve 
to restore the battle. His horse was killed. Another was given 
hirn, and he again strove by voice and example to reanimate his 
men, but now all England was upon them. Hope and courage 



NOTABLE FRENCH DEAD. 225 

were gone, and, as the sun went down towards the western 
horizon, the French army was in full flight, the king himself 
being led away, and saved only by the devotion of some of his 
knights. 

Pursuit was kept up till darkness, and stragglers were cut 
down and slain without mercy. The loss on the French side 
was appalling, for even on the following day they were trapped 
into ambush and the slaughter kept up. A fog was rolling in 
from the sea. Many of the French lost their way. The Eng- 
lishmen raised on the heights all the standards captured in the 
battle of the day before, and hundreds of poor fellows were 
lured into fancied shelter by the cruel artifice and murdered in 
cold blood. 

The French dead at Cressy are given as follows : Two kings 
(Bohemia and Majorca), the Count d'Alencon, the Dukes of 
Bourbon and Lorraine, the Earls of Aumale, Blois, Flanders 
and Vaudemont; 1,200 knights, 1,400 gentlemen of rank, 4,000 
men-at-arms (heavy cavalry) and 30,000 ordinary soldiery. 
What deserved to be an easy victory for King Philip had been 
turned into overwhelming rout and slaughter by the skill, cool- 
ness and courage of King Edward of England, whose own 
losses were insignificant in comparison. 

Crecy, or Cressy, deserves to be remembered mainly for the 
skill of King Edward, and the heroic courage of his knights and 
nobles. It was in memory of this gallant battle that the soldier 
monarch resolved upon the creation of that proud order of 
knighthood that to this day is so honored, envied and prized in 
England — the Order of the Garter. 

Originally intended only as a reward for most heroic and 
valuable services of a military nature, some additions and inno- 
vations have been made by recent monarchs, by which some 
few very eminent statesmen (notably Disraeli) and members of 
the royal houses of great nations have been admitted by favor 
of the Sovereign of Great Britain. But the Order of the Garter 
dates back to Cressy; some accounts alleging that King Ed- 
ward took off his garter in the heat of the battle and hurled it, 
as the Romans sometimes did their eagles, into the midst of the 
15 



226 CRESSY. 

foe, to animate the soldiers to charge and recover it. Others 
date its well-known motto, "Horn' soit qui mal y pense" to the 
romantic incident of King Edward's picking up and restoring, 
with a courtier's bow, the garter which had been dropped at a 
court ball by the Countess of Salisbury. 

Another well-known symbol of English royalty dates back to 
Cressy. The crest of the old King of Bohemia was three ostrich 
feathers, his motto the German words, " Ich Dien " — " I serve." 
Whether it be true that the poor old man was killed by the 
sword of the young prince or not, his crest and motto were then 
and there adopted by young Edward, and to this day are known 
as those of the Prince of Wales, the heir to the throne of 
England. 

Of this gallant soldier, who " won his spurs " so well at 
Cressy, it may be said that, ten years later, commanding the 
armies of England, he again won a great victory over those of 
France, at Poictiers, capturing the king himself; but "The 
Black Prince," as he was now universally known, never reached 
the throne. He quarreled with his father later in life, and died 
at the age of forty-six. 

Cressy was a terrible blow, temporarily, to France; but King 
Edward felt himself strong enough only to reduce Calais by 
siege, a year's task, and before the end of that year France had 
recruited an army of 200,000 men, and peace was again, for a 
brief time, secured by the intervention of Rome. 

Since allusion has been made to the great victory of the Black 
Prince at Poictiers, it is fitting, in concluding this chapter on 
Cressy, to make brief mention of a third brilliant victory for the 
English arms in France — Agincourt. The three battles were so 
singularly alike in almost every particular, that the description 
of Cressy would serve as the type of all. Agincourt was fought 
between Henry V., of England, and the commander-in-chief of 
the French forces, the Constable D Albert, October 25th, 1415. 
The English had some 25,000, the French twice that number 
and the advantage of position, supplies, etc. ; but Henry took 
advantage of French impetuosity, as had his great predecessors. 
He forced the enemy to attack him on crowded ground, com- 



THE BATTLE OF AGINCOURT. 



227 



pletely overthrew him, and the French loss in nobles and 
knights exceeded that of Cressy, though a far less number of 
soldiers of the line were victims. Agincourt was one of the 
proudest victories ever won, though the victors immediately re- 
turned to their own country. Fought nearly two centuries 
apart, Crecy and Agincourt lie close together, between Calais 
and St. Valery, near the English Channel. 








EDWA*^ III. CONGRATULATING THE BLACK PRINCE, AFTER CRESSY. 



ORLEANS. 



1429. 




WO years after Agincourt, Henry the Fifth 
again invaded France, conquered Normandy, 
and, in 1420, concluded the treaty of Troyes, 
by which it was agreed that while King 
Charles should retain the title of King of 
France, the government should be Henry's, 
and that the crown should descend to the 
latter's heirs. In 1422, singularly enough, 
both kings died. Henry VI. was immedi- 
ately proclaimed King of England and 
France, but numbers of the French refused to be bound by the 
treaty, and the dauphin, the son of Charles VI., was named 
King Charles VII. Instantly the English regent, the Duke of 
Bedford, attacked and beat the army of the dauphin at Crevant, 
and, in 1422, won a great victory at Verneuil over the dau- 
phin's people and their Scotch allies. Thus far, therefore, for 
nearly three centuries, the English had been having an almost 
uninterrupted success in France, and, vastly disheartened, the 
French army that had made its way to Orleans now found it- 
self besieged. 

The city of Orleans lies at the northernmost point reached by 
the river Loire, which, rising in the extreme south of France, 
flows northward some two hundred and fifty miles, and then, 
at almost an acute angle, sweeps round to the south of west and, 
after another meander of equal length, empties into the Bay of 
Biscay. Just under the 48th parallel, at this angle, lies the old 
town, mainly on the northern bank of the stream, though even 
in 1428 its suburbs extended some distance out on the low 
(228) 



PREPARATIONS OF THE FRENCH. 229 

grounds on the other side, a strong bridge connecting the two 
sections of the city. Fortification had already grown to be 
something of an art, and the southern end of the bridge was de- 
fended by a strong field-work, that nowadays would be known 
as a tete-du-pont, while on the bridge itself two solid towers of 
masonry had been raised close to the southern shore. North 
of and including these towers all was solid masonry ; south of 
them only a draw-bridge connected with the shore. These 
" Tourelles," as they were called, and the bridge-head combined 
to make a strong fortified post, and into them a garrison of con-, 
siderable strength had been thrown, when the advisers of the 
feeble-minded dauphin induced him to make one supreme effort 
to save Orleans. 

There was every reason why he should. The Loire divided 
France about in half. Everything north and east of it was now 
held by the English. He and his upholders were confined to 
the countries below it, and Orleans was the last stronghold left 
to them. Driven from his proper capital, the Dauphin Charles 
was fretting at Chinon, a hundred miles or so southwest of Or- 
leans. He had ordered his best troops to the Loire, and placed 
the Lord of Gaucour, a gallant soldier, in command of the de- 
fences of the threatened city as soon as the movement of the 
English indicated their intention of swooping down upon it. 
Already the Earl of Salisbury, with a strong force, had crossed 
the Loire, and soon showed by his advance his project of in- 
vesting the fortress from the south. He had but 10,000 men, but 
the uninterrupted triumphs of the English had made him con- 
fident of his ability to resist counter attack, and knowing that 
he could not hope to carry the walls by assault, he determined 
first to win the bridge and so cut off the main line of supplies 
for the garrison. He arrived before the town on the 12th of 
October, 1428, and on the 23d had carried the Tourelles by 
storm. But in retreating across to the city the French broke 
down the arches of the bridge. 

And now in good earnest artillery began to play its part in 
siege operations. The English planted a heavy battery in the 
works they had won, commanding some of the main- streets of 



230 OaIEANSL 

the city, while the garrison in turn shifted some of their guns to 
bear upon the Tourelles, and here, a few days after the assault 
on the tete-du-pont, a cannon shot killed the Earl of Salisbury 
and the command devolved upon the Earl of Suffolk. 

Among the prominent officers in Orleans at this time was the 
Count of Dunois, a natural son of the Duke of Orleans who 
had been assassinated by the Duke of Burgundy just before the 
treaty of Troyes. Dunois had already shown great courage 
and ability as a leader of small commands and was gradually 
advanced to more important posts. The English were unable 
with so few men to surround the city. The French made forays 
in every direction, adding to their own supplies and cutting off 
those that were intended for the invaders, so that the latter were 
compelled to send convoys to bring in their trains of provisions. 
Thus it happened that a severe combat took place between 
2,500 English, under Sir John Fastolffe, and 4,000 French, 
under Dunois. The latter kept his men well out of close range 
and hammered away at Fastolffe's wagons with his battery, 
utterly demolishing them and their contents and giving the 
English decidedly the worst of the day, until a lot of insubordi- 
nate Scotch allies rushed out of his line of battle bent on an 
independent attack of their own. Dunois was then dragged 
into a very different kind of battle in which he could no longer 
use his artillery, and being now compelled to fight at close 
quarters his people were soon completely thrashed by the stal- 
wart English and he himself was wounded. This fight, " The 
Battle of the Herrings," as it was called from the fact that 
the provisions of the train consisted mainly of that fishy fooH 
{Lent was then beginning), renewed the hopes and courage of 
the English, and correspondingly depressed the defenders of 
Orleans. 

Reinforcements were constantly arriving for both besiegers 
and besieged. Some 3,000 soldiers were now within the walls 
holding their own against 23,000. But by this time the Earl 
of Suffolk had succeeded in building at regular intervals around 
the city strong redoubts, called bastilles, wherein his men were 
safely lodged, and was busily engaged in connecting them with 




TO AN OF ARC WOUNDED. 



HEROIC DEFENCE OF THE CITY. 



231 



lines of earthworks to complete the investment of the city. The 
early spring of 1429 found matters in this state: the English 
and their allies, the Burgundians, being strong and jubilant; the 
French well-nigh starving and hopeless. 

Still disdaining to surrender to the hated English, yet de- 
spairing of aid from the weakling monarch they were so nobly 
serving, Gaucour and Dunois made proposals to surrender Or- 
leans to their countryman, the Duke of Burgundy. That noble- 
man went at once to Paris and laid the proposition before the 
English regent, the Duke of Bedford, who made so rude and 
discourteous a reply that Burgundy went back in disgust and 
withdrew all his troops from the siege. Still the English had 
now far more than men enough. They could simply take their 
ease in the trenches and starve out the city. Taking it by 
assault was no longer to be thought of. Never was walled 
town more heroically defended. The few attempts that Suffolk 
had made convinced him that it was a hornets' nest he could not 
tamper with. Impetuous as had been the attack, it was met 
with wonderful skill and spirit. The besieged toppled over the 
scaling ladders and sent the climbers, stunned and bleeding, 
into the ditch ; rolled huge stones down upon them ; threw fire- 
pots (something like the modern hand-grenade), red-hot bands 
of iron, buckets of scorching ashes and brands, kettles of boiling 
oil or water, and reserved their arrows and missiles for other 
purposes. Even the women of the city aided in a dozen ways 
— some even using long lances at the walls. There were but 
few troops, as we know, in Orleans at this time, but every citizen 
became an active defender. Lord Suffolk had captured the 
outworks, one after the other, but had made no impression on the 
walls. His guns and those of the defenders were mainly used 
against life and limb. The cannon of the days prior to the siege 
of Constantinople (1453) nad not proved effective against solid 
masonry, though some in use could throw stone balls of 100 
pounds ; but these had not come into vogue in France. 

So long as the garrison could obtain provisions it was plain 
that they would hold out against him. His quickest, safest and 
best plan was to devote all his energies to shutting off every 



232 ORLEANS. 

source of supply. This he did, but not so effectually as to pre- 
vent individuals or small parties from slipping through from 
time to time. Then, too, the river was open, and there was con- 
stant communication between the garrison and the advisers of 
Charles at Chinon. 

But that weak-spirited youth had by this time abandoned all 
hope. He had determined on leaving Orleans to its fate and 
seeking refuge for himself and his court in flight. The fortunes 
of France were at the very lowest ebb. Her men were ex- 
hausted and could not save her. Suddenly three women came 
to the fore. 

Mary of Anjou, wife of the dauphin, and by right Queen of 
France, was a wise and far-seeing woman. She had probably 
neither respect nor love for her husband, but she had for France. 
Agnes Sorel, beautiful and accomplished, the acknowledged 
mistress of the dauphin, and yet living in all amity under the 
same roof with his queen-wife, was as devoted to her native 
land. In hearty accord, in this matter at least, this strangely 
allied pair went diligently to work to overthrow their pusillan- 
imous master's determination — and succeeded. Had he fled, all 
hope would have abandoned France forever ; but, though they 
could not tell him how to send aid to Orleans, they made him 
stand his ground, and in doing it, Mary of Anjou and Agnes 
Sorel anchored the cause of France, at the instant when it was 
drifting upon the reefs of utter destruction. 

But who was to turn the tide, and then pilot the nation back 
to honor and prosperity ? Three women, we have said, were 
the appointed instruments. Who was the third ? 

Way over to the northeast, in what is now German territory, 
east of the city of Nancy, and well within the borders of peace- 
ful Lorraine, lay a little village — Domremy ; and few modern 
maps give any place to this insignificant hamlet, the birthplace 
and early home of the greatest heroine of military history. The 
world knows her as Joan of Arc, her parents had named her 
simply Jeannette. Of no one woman has more been written, 
said and sung. She has been the theme of historians for four 
centuries. Some have striven to rob her of her humblest vir- 



JEANNE OF ARC TO THE RESCUE. 233 

tues. Some have idealized her as a saint. Some describe her 
as a rude, uncouth, unsexed, middle-aged woman, performing all 
the menial stable-work of an hostler at an obscure country- 
tavern. Others give to her the charms of early youth, of mai- 
denly grace and intellectual beauty, and deny that her occupa- 
tion had ever been anything but that of a shepherdess. But one 
and all admit that truth, virtue and courage distinguished her 
throughout her eventful life. It is hard to select from the mass 
of authority the just estimate of her character ; but, even Eng- 
lish historians, who have the strongest reasons for making her 
out anything but the saint others would have us believe, admit 
the utter purity of her martyred life. The days of chivalry were 
not dead in England. Never was woman more devotedly wor- 
shipped, more loyally defended, more reverently held than 
under knightly Edward the Third, when noble Philippa of 
Hainault shared his throne and commanded the homage of all 
manhood. Yet never was woman more brutally insulted, more 
hideously tortuied than humble Joan of Arc by knights and 
clergy of the realm, not a century after Philippa had taught 
them to revere the very name of woman. It is their own fault 
if we will believe her as the French believed her: all youth, all 
innocence, all perfect ; and there are not lacking writers of sturdy 
old England, who gladly yield to her name all that was claimed 
for it. 

Her youth had been all piety and purity of soul ; she was 
marked for her gentle devotion to the sick and the distressed. 
She was known by her devotion to the services of the church, 
the fervor of her religion. Hours of her every-day life were 
spent in the open fields, her only companions her flocks and her 
trusty dogs. She was ever dreamy, emotional, susceptible. 
Her own home was far removed from the track of war, had 
escaped all ravages ; but the talk of all comers was of the wrongs 
and sufferings of France, of the outrages of the hated English. 
She could think of nothing else. Angels came to her in her 
dreams; heavenly voices spoke to her at her daily vigils; 
visions appeared to her under the waving trees : all exhorted 
her to go to the rescue of France. It was the will of God that 



234 ORLEANS. 

she should save her native land. How? She knew not, but 
heaven would guide, and go she must. Then came tidings of 
the siege of Orleans, of the desperate straits of the dauphin's 
party to whom she and her neighbors were devotedly attached. 
Then the heavenly voice adjured her to go to the court, assure 
the young king that God himself had appointed her the instru- 
ment by means of which the English should be driven from 
France, and he, the king, should be crowned in state at Rheims, 
whither she would conduct him. 

Despite her parents' anger she left her home, appeared before 
the French commandant at Vaucouleurs, where, at first repulsed, 
she won upon the religious feelings of the soldier to such an ex- 
tent that, on his own responsibility, though urged and aided by 
all the populace, who had become inspired with her fervor, he 
sent her, with an armed escort, the long journey of three hun- 
dred miles through a hostile country to the court of Charles, 
at Chinon. It really seemed as though divine influences her- 
alded and guarded her journey. Her fame went before her, 
spread like wild-fire over the land : "A virgin comes from the 
East — a virgin sent from heaven to rescue our land from the 
destroyer." Even the English speedily heard the rumors. 
Their religion was the same as that of the French. The mi- 
raculous was as possible in the minds of the one as the other, 
and crowds thronged along the road, and stronger grew her 
escort every day. 

Arrived at Chinon, she was admitted to speedy audience with 
the well-nigh hopeless dauphin. In order to test her claims to 
divine guidance and inspiration, all of which had preceded her, 
it was arranged that she should be summoned before a crowded 
court ; that the king himself should appear dressed as one of his 
nobles, and in no way distinguishable from them among whom 
he was to stand. She entered, threw one quick glance around, 
then, unhesitatingly, singled him out, stepped quickly to him 
and dropped upon her knee. 

" My king, heaven sends me to drive the English from your 
land, and to lead you to your crown at Rheims, for you are to 
be God's vice-gerent in France," 



INTENSE EXCITEMENT. 235 

Instantly the report went abroad that the holy maid had rec- 
<»gnized the king by a miracle ; then, that she had demanded a 
certain sacred sword, kept in the Church of St. Catharine, at 
Fierbois, which she could never have seen, yet accurately de- 
scribed. Certain it is, that the dauphin was amazed at her con- 
fidence, her zeal, and her great intelligence. But other ordeals 
were tried. She was rigorously questioned by the clergy; then 
by parliament at Poictiers ; and whether she succeeded in con- 
vincing these learned men of the divinity of her mission or not, 
it is beyond question that the impression produced was most 
powerful. Every day had added to the wonderful story. It 
had flown from mouth to mouth, growing with every repetition, 
and already so powerful was the faith of the people that here, 
indeed, was the God-ordained instrument of their relief, that 
king, clergy, parliament, even the noble dames of the court 
united in an enthusiastic welcome. Jeanne la Pucelle became 
the heroine of France. 

No time was to be lost. She shrank from and declined all 
ovations and banquets tendered her. She spent hours in soli- 
tary prayer and meditation while awaiting the day on which she 
could set forth, and then, clad in a magnificent suit of glistening 
white armor, and mounted on a spirited black charger, she left 
Chinon for the camp at Blois. 

All the court assembled to bid her God-speed ; clergy and 
nobles crowded to her side. She greeted all with gentle, modest 
grace ; her very mien was purity ; her face, unhelmeted, shone 
with intelligence and spirit ; her voice was low, soft and grave, 
yet she sat her horse with the consummate ease of one ever 
accustomed to the saddle ; perhaps it was this that made the 
English call her hostler. 

At Blois had been gathered a little remnant of an army, under 
Dunois (now recovered of his wound), La Hire and Xaintrailles, 
and with this force it was arranged that the Maid should march 
to the relief of Orleans, now wildly impatient for her coming. 
But first she proceeded to organize her command. All military 
details she left to her generals. Her sway was moral from the 
start. All abandoned characters were ordered from the camp. 



236 ORLEANS. 

Officers and soldiers were marched to confessional ; gaming, 
foul language and profanity were promptly punished. Chap- 
lains and priests were assigned to the army, and at every halt 
an altar was set up and the sacrament administered. She her- 
self spent hours in prayer, or in attentions to the sick and 
wounded. 

On the 25th of April the Maid, with her little army and her 
own brilliant retinue, which the dauphin had insisted upon her 
having, set out from Blois. On the night of the 28th she was 
in Orleans, unopposed. The English most unaccountably made 
no attempt to stop her, and their negligence is only explained 
by their chroniclers by the statement that they had ceased 
scouting the neighborhood some time before, and only kept 
watch on the town itself; and further, that on the night of the 
28th there was a furious rain-storm. 

Early on the morning of April 29th, with Dunois at her side, 
the Holy Maid rode through the crowded streets of the city. 
She was clad in her brilliant armor, her light battle-axe was at 
her side, her sacred sword hung upon her left, her lance was 
wielded with easy grace, while before her was borne the beautiful 
white banner which soon became inseparable from her every move- 
ment. It was of costly satin, richly embroidered in gold with 
fleur-de-lis, and bearing the words " Jhesus Maria." Following 
in her train were her chaplain, her esquires and heralds ; and 
around her, pouring from every house, thronged the enthusiastic 
people. They knelt about her as she addressed them, bidding 
them be of good cheer, to put their trust in God who would 
soon deliver them from their enemies. She herself then rode 
directly to the cathedral, where a solemn Te Dcum was chanted 
This was the woman whom the English were now execrating as 
an emissary of the devil, but the people of Orleans believed her 
an angel sent from heaven. 

And now came the time for action. The English were 
astounded at the news of her presence in the city, and for a few 
days seemed paralyzed. Profiting by their stupor, the Maid 
sent word to hurry in some needed provision-trains, and they 
were not even molested by the besiegers. An old prophecy 



"GO IN PEACE, ENGLISHMEN." 237 

was revived, that a virgin from Lorraine was to save France ; 
and the English were to the full as superstitious as the French. 

She had sent written messages and heralds to the besiegers, 
calling upon them, in the name of God, to give up the cities they 
had taken, and to fall back from France ; but her messages were 
received with disdain. ' Unwilling to shed blood, the gentle 
woman now determined to make a personal appeal before re- 
sorting to arms. 

The Tourelles were only a short distance from the southern- 
most ramparts of Orleans. They were still held by the English. 
Indeed, one of the highest chiefs and noblest of their knights, 
Sir William Gladsdale, was there in command. The ringing 
notes of a trumpet on the walls of Orleans, sounding a parley, 
called him hastily to the top of the tower, followed by many of 
his officers. 

On the opposite battlement there appeared a slender form, 
clad in spotless armor, and the uncovered head, with its long, 
jet bla&k hair, its fair, sweet face, was that of a woman. All 
was stilled as the soft, girlish voice came floating across the 
ruined bridge : " Go in peace, Englishmen ; in heaven's name I, 
Jeanne la Pucelle, bid you go. The God we both worship warns 
you to leave these walls and France. Safe conduct attends you 
if you leave, shame and woe if you remain." 

Every tone, every word and gesture breathed of purity and 
gentleness, of earnest piety. It is inconceivable that her brief 
harangue should have excited aught but courtesy and respect, 
but to the shame, to the utter disgrace of English knighthood, 
Sir William himself first bade her go back to the stable where 
she belonged ; then added words so foul, so full of brutal, 
beastly insult, that in amaze and shame the poor girl burst into 
tears ; and then the other English gentlemen, truckling to the 
example of their leader, burst into a chorus of ribald jests, 
under which she sank back from the wall, terrified and utterly 
overcome. 

There was no more thought of mediation. Bidding her sol- 
diers strike hard and strike home, Joan of Arc gave the word to 
attack the most available point on the English line of circum- 



238 ORLEANS. 

vallation. It was chosen at the bastille of St. Loup. Dunois 
led the assault in person, but, wishing to spare her, had not noti- 
fied the Maid of the hour. She was at home — at prayer, when 
the noise of the conflict reached her. She instantly ordered her 
horse, and in a few moments, banner in hand, was spurring to 
the gates. There she met the soldiers streaming back. They 
had been sternly repulsed with severe loss, but at sight of hef 
and her sacred banner, halted, rallied and, led on by the Maid 
herself, renewed the assault. Superstition must have unnerved 
the garrison of St. Loup this time, for it was taken by storm 
almost instantly, and the English were put to the sword. 

Fancy the triumph, the wild excitement, the renewed adora- 
tion of that emotional populace at this marvellous success. The 
battle once over — her first battle-field — all the scene of carnage 
and suffering proved too much for the gentle nature of the girl. 
She is said to have fainted at the sight of the pools of blood, 
and to have spent the entire night in prayers for the souls of the 
slain. 

Two days afterward Dunois and La Hire, with a strong at- 
tacking force, suddenly crossed the Loire in boats and, with the 
Holy Maid again leading, charged and carried by escalade the 
two strong bastilles of St. Jean de Blanc and Augustius. This 
time there was no repulse at all, but the Maid was slightly 
wounded in the heel. Again the enthusiasm of the soldiers was 
unbounded. The Tourelles was now the only fortification held 
by the English south of the Loire, but it was by far the strong- 
est and most difficult of assault, yet it was determined to strike 
while the iron was hot, and before it could be reinforced. 

At daybreak on the 7th of May, a selected body of troops, all 
of whom had attended mass and confessional and received abso- 
lution, were ferried across the Loire. They numbered about 
2,500, and were led by La Pitcelle herself. In a few moments 
they had surrounded the tete-du-pont which, with the Tourelles, 
was held by Gladsdale and the very best and bravest of the 
English army. Here ensued a terrible battle, both sides fight- 
ing with determined valor, the Holy Maid leading on her men 
and cheering them with her words. 



THE MAID WOUNDED. 239 

Attempting to scale the wall by means of a ladder, she became 
the mark of an English archer, who, bending over, sent an arrow 
whizzing into her shoulder. Bleeding, stricken, faint, she reeled 
and fell backward into the ditch, and a terrible panic seized the 
French. With wild cheering the word was passed among the 
English that the Maid was killed, and a rush was made to obtain 
her body. But in their retreat the French had borne her with 
them far to the rear, where presently she revived, and with her 
own hands drew out the arrow. Then, smiling despite her pain, 
she bade them rest, eat and drink, and be ready to renew the 
attack, for, said she, " By my God ! you shall soon enter there." 
Then after a while, with her banner before her, she led them to a 
new assault, assuring them that the instant that banner touched 
the wall they would scale the parapet. The English, aghast at 
her apparent resurrection, made a fainter resistance. Then fresh 
troops from within the city laid planks across the broken arches 
of the bridge and assailed the Tourelles from the north. Joan 
with her banner touched the southern wall and the garrison, 
unable to defend both sides at once, gave way. The French 
swarmed up the scaling ladders, Joan among the foremost, and 
the first man she met was the knight commander who had so 
foully insulted her. He was hastening back from the bridge- 
head to the defence of the Tourelles, when she with her men 
came pouring over the wall. " Surrender to heaven," she cried ; 
" you have cruelly wronged me, but I pity your soul. Sur- 
render — " but at that instant a cannon shot carried away the 
planking beneath his feet. Stunned and helpless he fell into the 
dark waters underneath, and the brave Sir William Gladsdale, as 
staunch and valiant a soldier as England ever sent forth, and as 
true a knight until he stained his lips with that foul retort, 
drowned like a cur in sight of the woman he had insulted. 

And now with Les Tourelles once more their own, all Orleans 
went wild with joy. Services were held in all the churches. It 
was as much as the gentle Maid could do to prevent the over- 
joyed people from worshipping her as they would a saint. Bon- 
fires, illuminations, and even a banquet were indulged in. 
Couriers were sent off to Charles at Chinon with the glorious 



240 ORLEANS. 

tidings. Even were strong reinforcements to come to the Eng- 
lish now — what mattered it? Under her divine leadership 
Orleans could overthrow the world. 

But it was a bitter night in the English camp. All was dread, 
all was vague uneasiness. Superstitious fears were aroused. 
Supernatural powers were in league with France, said the 
soldiers, and they had lost all heart. Talbot, their best and 
bravest leader on the northern side, urged a retreat, and early 
on the morrow, to the joy of Orleans, the last English forts were 
seen in flames, and their armies slowly falling back to the north- 
ward. Eagerly the soldiers clamored to be led in pursuit, but 
the Maid refused. It was Sunday. They were allowed to go 
in peace, while she and her followers rendered humble thanks 
to God for their great deliverance. The siege of Orleans was 
raised. 

And now the wave of English invasion that had threatened 
to engulf all France had first been broken on the banks of the 
Loire and then began to recede. Six thousand gallant men had 
been sacrificed around the walls of the old city and all in vain. 
The haughtiest nation on earth was falling back before a woman. 
It was all very well to say that God or the devil was at her back. 
She was their conqueror, and they could make no stand against 
soldiers led by that mystical white banner. Following rapidly 
she again defeated them at Jergean, where, though knocked 
senseless for a moment, she never left the fight, and found as 
her chief prisoner the high-born Earl of Suffolk, late com- 
mander of the besiegers of Orleans. Then came the recapture 
of Troyes. Then a superb victory in open field at Patay, on the 
1 8th of June (how the English paid it back on that same day 
of that same month at Waterloo). Here two more splendid 
soldiers, Talbot and Scales, became her prisoners, while a third, 
Sir John Fastolffe, charged with leading the retreat by his irate 
monarch, was deprived for a time of that dearly prized honor 
awarded in those days only to twenty-five of the most valiant 
soldiers of the realm — the Order of the Garter. 

And now the Maid of Orleans, as she has ever since been 
called, returned to the dauphin whom she had so eminently and 



THE KING CROWNED. 241 

faithfully served. One-half her promise to him had been 
redeemed within three months — the complete relief of Orleans. 
She had still to see him crowned at Rheims, and within another 
three months this, too, was accomplished. 

With pomp and ceremony and all the sacred rites of the 
Romish Church, with the Holy Maid and her blessed banner 
by his side, this man born and made and saved of women was 
anointed King of France, Defender of the Faith ; and Joan of 
Arc, kneeling before him and embracing his royal and shaky 
knees, shed tears of pure and humble joy at this consummation 
of her great mission. No doubt of its genuineness ever entered 
her mind. It was accomplished, and now in all humility she 
begged permission to lay aside her warlike garb, and return to 
her rustic home, her peaceful avocations and her prayers. 

But they would not let her go. France was not yet free. The 
hated Duke of Bedford still held Paris, and strong forces of 
English were in Normandy. All neighboring France hastened 
to avow its allegiance to fortunate King Charles the Seventh, 
and large armies were being gathered to drive out the de- 
tested islanders. No ! the Maid of Orleans must complete the 
work she had so admirably begun, and royal would be her 
reward. 

And so, as though still hearing her Heavenly Voices, she went 
back to the army, served bravely and zealously in the attack of 
several strong places, was severely wounded before the walls of 
Paris, and then the army of King Charles, mostly volunteers, 
concluded to disband and go home while the forces of Bedford 
and the Burgundians were gaining strength. At Compeigne the 
wounded Maid was taken prisoner by the exultant Burgundians, 
who not knowing exactly what to do with her, sold her for 
lavish English gold to the Duke of Bedford. 

Some black deeds of wrong and oppression have stained the 
fair fame of the great English nation, but blackest, foulest of all, 
was the humiliation, the ignominy, the indignities, indecencies, 
suffering, trial, tortures and death at the stake to which this poor, 
stricken, friendless girl was condemned by them. They carried 
her to Rouen — far from possible rescue, even had the craven king 



24 'J 



ORLEANS. 



she made, dare attempt such a thing, and he failed her utterly; 
he never so much as made the feeblest protest. She had been an 
honorable, chivalrous, merciful enemy. England loaded her 
with chains and curses ; denied her the rites of the church 
that was her life, and burned her to death in the market-place 
at Rouen, May 30, 143 1. So perished the Maid of Orleans. 

After this it is pleasing to record that the cause of England in 
France went rapidly to pieces. They were whipped on several 
fields. The Duke of Bedford died the following September, and 
their hold on all points south of the channel was soon lost to 
them entirely. 




MONUMENT TO JOAN OF ARC IN ROUEN. 
(Erected on the spot where she was burnt.) 



CONSTANTINOPLE. 




1453- 

.OUNDED, as is believed, almost on the site 
of ancient Byzantium, which itself was three 
times besieged, the city of Constantinople 
occupies, from a military or strategical 
standpoint, a position which is unrivalled 
in its importance. There is no scope in 
these merely descriptive sketches for a dis- 
cussion of its vast political value. The 
" Eastern Question " is one which the states- 
men of Europe will probably wrangle over until the millennium ; 
but the western powers of Europe have always jealously watched 
any and every attempt on the part of Russia to possess herself 
of the key to the straits of the Bosphorus. When told that his 
once ally and sworn friend, the Tsar Alexander of Russia, de- 
sired to gain it, Napoleon the Great excitedly sprang to his feet, 
saying, " Constantinople ! Never — it is the empire of the world." 
For all time since, it has seemed far better to let this historic 
city remain in the hands of the infidel Turks than that Russia 
should have it ; and, on the other hand, Russia would never 
consent to its becoming the property of any western power of 
Europe. 

Naturally this valuable position has been the scene of frequent 
and desperate fighting. Beside the three sieges of ancient 
Byzantium, history tells us of no less than five similar afflictions 
that have fallen on the modern city, the once proud capital of 
the Eastern Empire of Rome, the seat and court of the first 
Christian Emperor Constantine. The savage Huns assailed it 
in 559, but were terribly beaten by the great soldier Belisarius, 

(243) 



244 CONSTANTINOPLE. 

An Asiatic tribe assailed it in 670 and were beaten back with 
loss. Repeating the experiment two years later, they were even 
more roughly handled. Then in 1203 came the great siege of 
the Crusaders during their fifth attempt upon the strongholds of 
the Saracens. But greatest of all, most important, most lasting 
in its results, was the fifth siege of Constantinople proper, and 
this is the one which it is proposed briefly here to describe. 
It was the siege of 1453. 

For eight hundred years the followers of the prophet under 
their many titles, Mussulmans, Saracens, Mohammedans, even 
those of infidels, or, briefly, Turks, had been waging war against 
the Christian nations of Europe. Sometimes attacking, some- 
times defending, they had at last succeeded in establishing them- 
selves firmly in northern Africa, western Asia, and portions of 
Turkey in Europe, and were now in a position to resume the 
offensive. Their first aim was Constantinople, which they had 
been eagerly watching for years. 

The once proud capital was in a state of decline. It had still 
an immense population, but its vigor was gone. It was no 
longer the heart of the Eastern Empire. It stood now on the 
outer edge of Christendom, a great walled city, still presided 
over by an emperor bearing the same name as him who founded 
it; but Roman energy, manhood, wisdom, all seemed gone; an 
indolent, sensual and dreamy race had grown up in place of 
the old populace. They were now mainly Greeks, and a Greek 
form of the Catholic religion had taken root in Constantinople, 
which soon resulted in the establishment of the Greek Church 
as opposed to that of Rome. 

Finding from the preparations of the Turks all along the 
straits of the Bosphorus and the Dardanelles as well as to the 
west, that trouble threatened his exposed capital, the Emperor 
Constantine sent to Rome for aid. He had as a garrison five 
or six thousand utterly unreliable soldiers, taken from the very 
dregs of the people. He received some support, it is true, from 
a small contingent of European troops under the Genoese Jus- 
tinian, but these were all the defenders he could call upon for 
a population utterly incapable of defending itself. Presently he 



BESIEGED BY SULTAN MOHAMMED II. 245 

learned that the Turks were building a formidable castle on the 
Bosphorus, and, still more alarmed, he called upon his wealthy 
men to subscribe funds for raising troops and putting the walls 
and armament in a condition for defence, but the easy-going 
Greeks would not rouse themselves to any effort. Rome would 
help them out, they said, and a grand crusade would be inau- 
gurated in their defence. Cardinal Isidore hastened from Rome to 
look into the situation. A union of the two churches was sug- 
gested as a preliminary move. The cardinal held service in the 
Church of St. Sophia according to the ritual of Rome, and the 
whole population stormed at him with abuse. He had come to 
help them, but they declared they would rather see the infidels 
in St. Sophia than the hat of a Romish cardinal. 

Naturally, no help came from Rome after that, and Con- 
stantinople was left to fight her own battle. It came soon 
enough. 

Sultan Mohammed II. was at the head of the great Mussul- 
man nation, with his capital at Adrianople. He had spent two 
years in preparation, and now, with 400,000 men, he marched 
upon the doomed capital. Most of these troops were nothing 
but slaves, newly conquered people, for whom he had use, as 
will be seen. His reliable soldiers were some 30,000 light cav- 
alry and 60,000 foot. With these he brought the most ponder- 
ous and powerful artillery the world had yet seen. The Greeks 
had refused employment to a Hungarian, who had offered to 
build gun-carriages and manufacture cannon for them ; so he 
went further, and found an eager patron in Mohammed. The 
sultan asked him if he could make a gun powerful enough to 
breach the walls of Constantinople, which were of solid masonry. 
Assured that he could, orders were given at once. A foundry 
was established at Adrianople, and the most extraordinary gun 
ever known was turned out in three months. " Its bore was 
twelve palms, and it was capable of throwing a ball or stone 
weighing six hundred pounds." When it was tested, notifica- 
tion was sent all over the neighboring country, so as to prevent 
panic. The explosion shook up everything within a radius of 
twenty miles, and the ball was thrown over a mile and buried 



246 CONSTANTINOPLE. 

itself deep in the ground. Thirty wagons linked together 
formed the travelling-carriage of this monster ; sixty horses 
drew it, and two hundred men walked by its sides to keep it 
from rolling off. Two hundred and fifty men went before to 
clear and level the way, and it took two months to drag it one 
hundred and fifty miles. 

Besides this Goliath of a gun, the Hungarian cast for the sul- 
tan several smaller ones, what we would call two-hundred 
pounders, for such was the weight of the shot they threw. It 
was with an immensely powerful siege-train, therefore, that he 
appeared before the walls of Constantinople, marching so as to 
completely encircle them by land. 

At the same time his fleet appeared at the Dardanelles — two 
hundred and fifty sail ; and though great iron chains barred their 
way, it is affirmed that, with a degree of energy and engineering 
skill that proved a complete surprise to the Christians, he suc- 
ceeded in one night in drawing eighty of his vessels around the 
chains and launching them above. It took six miles of greased 
planks and an immense force of men, but the feat was accom- 
plished, and on the following day the galleys were floating in 
the harbor of Constantinople. 

And now, while his army hemmed in the city from the west, and 
his fleet anchored under the walls on the side of the Bosphorus, 
the young sultan (he was only twenty-three) set to work build- 
ing his breaching batteries. For the first time in military his- 
tory solid masonry was to be made to crumble under the mis- 
siles of the artillery. The siege was opened about the second 
week in April, and by the end of that month every point of the 
walls, some twelve miles in circumference, was covered by the 
enclosing lines. 

Small as was the garrison, Constantine was brave. The 
Genoese leader, Gian Justiniani, was a skilled soldier, and his 
two thousand countrymen proved worth their weight in gold. 
The Turks built batteries on the side of the Bosphorus, but it 
was a long time before they got their guns into position; mean- 
time they resorted to the expedient of mining and blowing up 
the walls, but here they were foiled by the vigilance of the 



A GENERAL ASSAULT ORDERED. 247 

Greeks. Once thoroughly convinced of their danger, the people 
seem to- have behaved for a time with great spirit. They confi- 
dently expected the coming of a relieving army from Hungary, 
under Hunyadi. Countermines were dug, the Turks driven off; 
vigorous sorties were made in the night time, and so well did 
they fight that, it is said, Mohammed at one time seriously 
thought of giving up the project. 

By this time, however, the siege-guns were well at work, and, 
being planted only a short distance away from the walls, began 
to knock huge breaches into the masonry. Mohammed, there- 
fore, determined not to go without one grand effort. First, 
however, he proposed terms to Constantine. 

Ever since 1366 the Turks had virtually held all the country 
around Constantinople and up the valleys of the Danube to the 
borders of Hungary. Adrianople, on the Maritza, about one 
hundred miles west of the Bosphorus, was their great city. " I 
desire to spare Constantinople," was the sultan's message to the 
emperor. " Bombardment and assault can only result in its 
utter destruction. Give up to me the Peloponnesus and I will 
raise the siege and leave you and your capital in peace." 

Constantine replied that he would rather be buried in its 
ruins ; and a general assault was ordered for the following day. 

There were some twenty gates to be defended besides the 
breaches that had been made in the walls, and the garrison well 
knew that it would call for all their strength and valor. Both 
Christian and infidel prepared themselves by religious ceremo- 
nies for the ordeal, and at three o'clock on the morning of the 
29th of May the grand attack began. 

It was the custom of the Turks to send in their prisoners of 
war in large numbers among the first assailants of a fortified 
position. Not, of course, prisoners from the people whom they 
were then fighting, but those of other nations or tribes brought 
from a distance. The theory was that, inspired by promises of 
liberty and reward if they were successful, and closely watched 
to prevent treachery, these poor creatures would fight desper- 
ately. If they succeeded, well and good ; the Turks would 
then pour in unopposed upon their tracks. If they failed, the 



248 



CONSTANTINOPLE. 



Turks sustained no loss, and the dead bodies served to fill up 
the ditches and moats, while the garrison itself must be more or 
less wearied by its efforts, and therefore all the less able to with- 
stand a genuine attack hours later. 

Some 200,000 of these involuntary volunteers seem to have 
been employed, therefore, on this assault in force, beginning at 
the earliest peep of day on that warm May morning. For 
hours the savage battle raged ; the ships and sailors and the 
guns on the Bosphorus side making vigorous play to keep the 
garrison occupied while the main attack went on north, west 
and south. Driven in to the assault, with whip and sword, the 
poor " allies " were butchered front and rear. All the merciless 
engines of defence that had been conspicuous at Acre and at Or- 
leans were employed against them, while the stern Janissaries, 
out of harm's way themselves, kept prodding them on. An in- 
credible number were killed, and the faint-hearted attack was 
unsuccessful. 

But it had wearied the defenders, and now while the day was 
still young the trumpets rang out the signal for the grand as- 
sault. Nearly 100,000 fresh and disciplined troops formed for 
the attack ; the great guns thundered their last salute to the 
walls, the huge stones crashing in among the rocks and timbers, 
sending splinters flying in every direction and raising great 
clouds of dust ; the lighter guns swept the walls of their de- 
fenders, and then, under cover of the cannonade, the Mussulman 
lines rushed in. Some headed for the now bloody and corpse- 
strewn gaps in the walls ; others boldly advanced with scaling 
ladders. It was the last chance for Constantine, and he himself 
fought foremost at the main breach against which came the 
brunt of the attack. The few guns of the city that could be 
brought to bear dealt havoc among the dense masses of the 
Turks, but they could not be worked fast enough. Fire-balls, 
burning timbers, rocks and ashes were hurled down on the as- 
sailants. Darts, arrows and lances whizzed through the breaches 
at the attacking columns, but those fiery, fate-impelled Janissaries 
stopped for nothing. The sultan had promised that the first 
man over the walls should be made a pasha and that bravery 




ENTRY OF MOHAMMED II. INTO CONSTANTINOPLE, MAY 29, 1453. 

{Benjamin Constant.) 



THE CITY TAKEN AND PILLAGED. 249 

should be rewarded. He had promised the pillage of the entire 
city to his army, bidding them spare only the fine public build- 
ings. There was every incitement for the brutal Mussulman 
soldiery, and at last a body of Janissaries succeeded in reaching 
the top of the wall. The people made a rush to drive them 
back and hurl them into the ditch, but they clung to the ground 
like bull-dogs, while others of their comrades swarmed up the 
ladders to their support. Soon they were able to dash in with 
their scimitars upon the ill-armed inhabitants who confronted 
them, and a few moments more had sent them fleeing in terror 
through the streets. Fast as the Janissaries poured over the wall 
at this point their officers led them right and left to attack the 
gate-guards in rear, and speedily through half a dozen ports 
thus won, the Mussulman soldiery came swarming. The flag of 
the Crescent was raised on the walls, and, catching sight of this, 
the sailors of the fleet redoubled their energies, and soon suc- 
ceeded in scaling a high tower on the harbor side. Then Con- 
stantine, looking about him in wild despair, saw that all was over 
with his capital. The people who would not heed his warnings 
were doomed to a terrible fate. He threw himself among the 
defenders at the nearest gate, and bravely, desperately fighting, 
there received his death-wound, just as Zagan Pasha with his 
sailors came swarming over the eastern wall. The Empire of the 
East, which had existed eleven hundred and forty-three years, 
went down with Constantine, for in half an hour the Turk was 
master of the capital. 

Of the horrors that followed it is useless to speak. Resisting 
men were butchered ; others simply herded into slave-pens for 
the time being. Women were everywhere given up to outrage 
or death ; children were slain as useless and in the way. Pillage, 
plunder and rapine ran riot for the promised three days and 
nights, then Mohammed sternly bade it cease. Riding through 
the blood-stained streets on his white charger, he himself re- 
stored order and discipline. Those prominent citizens who had 
escaped with their lives were brought before him, and, to their 
amaze, were sent back to their homes to build up anew their 
fortunes under Mussulman protection. To many, restoration was 



250 



CONSTANTINOPLE. 



made of such of their property as could be identified in the spoil. 
To all, Mohammed held out inducements to remain and restore 
the commerce and prosperity of the great city which he assured 
them was to be made his capital. Even their religion, it was 
promised, should be left them, and in this way the conqueror 
succeeded in re-establishing almost immediately the arts of peace 
in the great city he had won. 

Forty thousand men perished in the siege. Sixty thousand 
among the poorer inhabitants were made prisoners and driven 
off to do elsewhere the work of the Mussulmans. Masters of > 
Asia and Africa, they had now won the proudest capital of East- 
ern Europe, the command of the gateway to the Black Sea, the 
shores of southern Russia and the mouth of the Danube. Of 
all their conquests this was the most important and most lasting, 
for it endures to this day, and well might the young sultan be 
named, as he was then named, Mohammed Bujuk — The Great. 




SIEGE OF CONSTANTINOPLE. 



LEIPSIC. 




1 63 1. 

HE THIRTY YEARS' WAR comes next in 
chronological order on the list of great events 
in military history. It began in a religious 
struggle, originally between the German 
Protestants and their Roman Catholic country- 
men. Austria and Spain were gradually 
drawn in on the Catholic side and were allies 
throughout, generally under the name of the 
Imperialists, against various antagonists. It 
began in 161 8 and lasted until 1648, and during that time some 
of the most illustrious names in soldierly chronicles achieved 
their greatest prominence and their undying renown. Among 
these Gustavus Adolphus, Wallenstein, Tilly, Montecuculi, Tu- 
renne and Conde were the most celebrated ; and of the incessant 
fighting going on, whole volumes larger than this might easily 
be written. The greatest battles were those of Prague, Leipsic, 
Liitzen and the second affair at Nordlingen, but space will 
permit the description of only two or three of the battles of 
even so renowned a war as this. 

The theatre of operations was pretty much all over Germany 
and Bohemia from the Rhine to the Oder, though occasionally 
the Austrian dominions were invaded. 

Ferdinand II. of Styria had stamped out the Protestant religion 
in his native province. The Protestant Elector-Palatine, Fred- 
erick V., was chosen King of Bohemia, and was then driven out 
by the Emperor of Austria. The Duke of Bavaria and the 
Princes of the League joined forces with Ferdinand II. The 
Protestants generally took up arms for Frederick, and the Im- 

(251) 



252 leipsic. 

perialists opened the ball by overwhelming victories won by 
Maximilian and Tilly at Prague, Dessau and Lutter. The Protes- 
tant cause was hopeless unless outside aid should come, and had 
Ferdinand been at all politic, there would have been no danger 
of that, but his head was turned with his marked success. He 
offended even his own friends and allies, and speedily succeeded 
in giving mortal offence to Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden, 
and a new and very different phase was taken by the war when 
this vigorous young monarch decided to lend his aid to the 
cause of his Protestant neighbors across the Baltic. 

Gustavus Adolphus was born in Stockholm Castle, December 
9th, 1594. He was trained with the utmost care, and with strict 
discipline of mind and body. He spoke German, French, Italian 
and Latin with fluency when a mere boy, and understood Eng- 
lish, Spanish, Polish and Russian ; while his favorite studies were 
historical, and those which dealt with the art of war. He grew 
tall, strong and hardy, and was of a religious temperament from 
his boyhood. In 1604 he was elected Crown Prince of Sweden, 
and when just eighteen became king. Wars with Russia and 
Poland early occupied his attention and developed his martial 
talents; but during an interval of peace, just before becoming 
involved with the latter nation, he thoroughly reorganized his 
army and wrote his celebrated articles of war. 

Gustavus Adolphus was at once the regenerator of ancient 
military discipline and the father of that which is maintained to 
this day. More than this : he was the great innovator of his 
century. He made more changes, brought about more improve- 
ments, and did more to advance the art of war than all the other 
leaders of his time combined ; and Napoleon says he was one 
of the eight great generals of the world. 

Briefly it may be said that in restoring disciplined order to 
the movements of his armies, he adopted the elasticity of the 
Roman system in preference to the solidity of the Greek. In 
other ways, too, he copied after the Romans. He fortified his 
camp at night, and the most rigid discipline was exacted, espe- 
cially among guards and sentinels. His articles of war, 150 in 
number, began with injunctions for the cultivation of reverence for 



NEW TACTICS OF GUSTAVUS. 253 

religion in the army. Divine service was celebrated daily. 
Duels were stopped, profanity, gambling, immorality of every 
kind checked, and pillage of captured towns placed under proper 
restrictions. 

It was in his reorganization, however, that Gustavus Adolphus 
made the most radical blows at existing systems. Fire-arms had 
long since come into common use, and at the time of the 
Thirty Years' War all the European infantry were accustomed 
to "matchlocks." On the continent, infantry regiments were 
from two to three thousand strong — very unwieldy bodies; 
Gustavus reduced his to i,oo8 men each, exclusive of officers, 
eight companies (1,26 men) to the regiment. They were divided 
into musketeers (576), and pikemen (432). The former carried 
the matchlock (which Gustavus greatly lightened during the 
Polish war, and which was very soon superseded by the flint- 
lock), and a short curved sword. The helmet was the mus- 
keteer's only defensive armor. The pikeman, however, had hel- 
met, cuirass and thigh-pieces, and carried a sword or else a light 
axe besides the pike, which, improved by Gustavus, was made 
of aspen, poplar or good fir, tipped with highly tempered steel. 
In charging, the pike was held, like the sarissa of old, with both 
hands, left hand in front. In resisting charge of cavalry, the 
butt rested against the right foot, the left hand steadied it, point 
at height of the breast or neck, while the soldier held his drawn 
sword or axe in the right hand. Gustavus drew up his infantry 
six deep, reducing the depth from ten ranks, as was the formation 
in other armies. 

The cavalry under the young King of Sweden had to undergo 
many changes. He was the first to organize (in 1625) the 
hitherto independent troops into regiments, eight troops of 66 or 
72 men (half the usual size for the troop of those days) form- 
ing a regiment, which, not exceeding 575 men, was easily 
handled by a skillful officer. The imperial cavalry of the Ger- 
man army was formed (under Wallenstein) ten deep for cuiras- 
siers, six for light cavalry. Count Tilly reduced this to eight 
and five respectively, but Gustavus went still further. His 
cavalry at first formed four deep, but soon reduced even that to 
three. 



254 leipsic. 

And it was Gustavus who first taught cavalry the true princi- 
ples of charging. The continental system seemed to be for the 
regiment to ride up at sharp trot or gallop, until close to the 
enemy, when the first line would fire its pistols ; if the enemy 
broke, the charge was continued. If not, the line rode off 
right and left, and the second line whirled up and repeated the 
performance ; and if the enemy did not break by the time the 
third line had tried it, the attempt was abandoned. Gustavus 
taught his cavalry to fire as they approached, but never to waver 
or halt ; to draw swords at once and charge home, and depend on 
the shock and the keen edge of the weapon. 

But it was in field-artillery Gustavus made the greatest change. 
He found it very clumsy and heavy, difficult to move. He made 
it comparatively light and effective, first by the introduction of 
" leather guns," and afterwards by very lightly cast guns of iron 
or bronze. The " leather guns " were made of a light copper 
tube, strengthened by snugly fitting bars of iron of the same 
length riveted to it by heavy rings. This was tightly wound 
with strong cord cemented with coatings of mastic, and the 
whole covered by a leathern jacket. Two men could carry it, 
and a very tough little field-piece it made. They soon got 
heated in firing, however, and were discarded after Leipsic. 
Gustavus Adolphus introduced the system of having some light 
guns in each heavy field-battery, because the small guns could 
keep up a rapid fire, and when in retreat could be kept back to 
play upon the pursuers, while the large guns were being drawn 
out of harm's way. 

As yet uniforms for regiments had not been generally adopted 
in the Swedish army except for the Life Guards, but in 1627 the 
king had the doublets stained or dyed with different colors for 
each division, while the regiments were named the blue, green, 
red or yellow, from the color of the standard of each. 

Such were the main points introduced by Gustavus Adolphus 
into military organization in the seventeenth century. In 1624 
the military force of Sweden was reckoned at 36,000 foot and 
4,400 horse. 

The Thirty Years' War was twelve years old when the King 



GUSTAVUS INVADES THE EMPIRE. 255 

of Sweden decided to take a hand. German writers are prone 
to say that grasping ambition led him into it. But the Germans 
themselves implored his aid, and it was not until Catholic 
aggressions had made the war " the common concern of Europe 
and mankind," that he invaded the empire. He could bring but 
a small army with him, but it was disciplined and well trained. 
Eleven regiments of foot and two of cavalry embarked with him 
from Sweden. Other regiments that had been on duty in 
Poland were ordered to meet him. He took with him thirty- 
six field-guns (12 and 24-pounders) and some heavy "batteries 
of position," 44-pounders, and, with a force not exceeding 15,000 
men, he landed on the island of Usedom, on the coast of Pome- 
rania, on Midsummer Day, 1630. His first move, after devout 
thanks and prayers to the Almighty, was to get control of the 
mouths of the Oder. Then a treaty was made with the Duke 
of Pomerania, who furnished some infantry (the White Brigade) 
and a money contribution. Then, 8,000 reinforcements having 
reached him from Prussia, he advanced boldly into the interior, 
brilliantly outmanoeuvred and whipped the Imperialists near 
Rostock (to the vast astonishment of the Italian, Savelli, who 
led them), captured Gartz and Greiffenhagen, driving the Impe- 
rialist army before him; and, early in 163 1, Frankfort-on-the- 
Oder was in his possession. 

All this had been accomplished by rapid and brilliant march- 
ing and fighting, with a very small army compared to the forces 
under control of the Imperialists (Wallenstein alone had 100,000 
men) ; and the name of Gustavus Adolphus began to be looked 
upon with dread and respect. By the end of February, 163 1, in 
the space of eight months, he had taken eighty cities and 
strongholds in Pomerania and Mecklenburg. 

And now the Imperialist, General Tilly, with a strong force, 
set out to put a stop to this damaging array of successes for the 
Protestant cause. He laid siege to the city of Magdeburg, car- 
ried it by assault, and forever tarnished his reputation by the 
frightful scenes of pillage and slaughter which he permitted at 
the expense of the inhabitants. Gustavus reached the Elbe too 
late to relieve the city, but not too late to punish Tilly. The 



256 leipsic. 

latter, with 26,000 men, ventured to attack the King of Sweden 
in his intrenched camp, where the garrison was only 16,000, but 
the lesson should have opened his eyes. Unused to defeat, it 
was with rage that Tilly saw his troops scattered in disorderly 
flight, leaving hundreds of their number dead upon the ground. 
Their next meeting was before the city of Leipsic, which Tilly- 
menaced with an army of 40,000 men. 

Leipsic lies in the northwestern corner of Saxony, near a 
branch of the river Saal. Several small villages surrounded it, 
and near one of these, Breitenfeld, from two to three miles norths 
of the city, the army of Tilly was encamped. The city had sur- 
rendered to him and now lay to his right. The troops of the 
Protestants were still on the eastern side of the Elbe awaiting 
negotiations between the King of Sweden and the Duke of 
Saxony. Gustavus Adolphus had nearly 20,000 men at Wit- 
tenberg, on the Elbe. The Saxon army, about the same 
strength, was at Torgau. Leipsic, Wittenberg and Torgau 
formed a triangle, which, though not equilateral, was so nearly 
so that, had Tilly possessed the vim and brilliancy which had 
been reputed to him as characteristics of his generalship, he 
could easily, in two days' short marches, have thrown his 35,000 
on either one of these forces, and the Saxons at least would have 
been utterly whipped ; but for some unaccountable reason Tilly 
held back, permitted an alliance to be made between the King 
of Sweden and the Duke of Saxony, and, on the 4th of Septem- 
ber, their armies advanced from the Elbe and united at Diiben, 
on the Mulda, only nine miles northeast of Leipsic. On the 
6th of September they halted in full view of the position of 
Tilly, and camped for the night. 

With a little less than 40,000 men apiece, the two most re- 
nowned generals of the day were about to grapple in a battle 
that each felt must be decisive. If anything, Tilly had the 
greater reason for confidence. He had faith in the devotion and 
valor of all his troops, and was going to fight on the defensive, 
Gustavus Adolphus, with good reason, distrusted the stability 
of the Saxons, " his left arm," and would be compelled, he saw, 
to take the initiative. 



CONFIDENCE OF TILLY. 257 

Running north and south, though more nearly northwest to 
southeast, was a range of heights, at the upper end of which 
stood Breitenfeld, and beyond that the little village of Linden- 
thai. Tilly placed not only his " batteries of position " on these 
heights, but also his light guns, while, in one long line, from 
opposite Lindenthal down to the southward, stretched his infan- 
try and cavalry — infantry in the centre, cavalry on the flanks, 
in accordance with the old Spanish system. Fiirstenburg com- 
manded his right wing. The hot-headed Pappenheim led the 
left. Tilly himself commanded the centre. He had no reserves 
except perhaps some artillery supports ; no second line but his 
guns. He seems to have placed his whole reliance on fighting 
on the defensive, ten deep. The range of heights was at their 
backs, and the guns were to fire over their heads. 

Against this position, advancing from the northeast, came an 
equal number of soldiery, marching in two columns : Swedes to 
the northward, Saxons to the south. They crossed the little 
stream of the Lober, where Pappenheim made an absurd attack 
with 2,000 cuirassiers (contrary to the orders of Tilly), and was 
easily brushed off by the Swedes ; and, about noon on the 7th 
of September, 1631, the army of Gustavus Adolphus formed 
line with calm deliberation before the waiting host of the Impe- 
rialists. Here again Tilly seems to have let slip another oppor- 
tunity. Had he attacked in force while the formation was going 
on, which he could readily have done, an easy victory might 
have been his ; but Tilly seems to have had but one idea : to wait 
and be attacked, then pound his adversary to pieces. 

Never before had the practised eyes of the Imperialists, with 
all their years of experience in war, witnessed such a formation 
as that of the Swedish army on this memorable day. The Saxon 
Duke had asked as a favor, that his troops should be inter- 
mingled with those of Sweden, but the king had promptly de- 
clined. " They are not accustomed to our discipline," said he, 
and so the Saxons constituted by themselves the left wing of 
the army, opposite the long line of Fiirstenburg. The entire 
army of Gustavus was drawn up in two lines, with a strong re- 
serve for each wing and for the centre. He himself took com- 



258 LEIPSIC. 

mand of the first line of the right wing, where his bravest and 
staunchest cavalry was stationed, with a few battalions of muske- 
teers dispersed at intervals among the squadrons. To the left of 
the king and slightly advanced was the main infantry line. The 
regiments were not deployed in extended ranks as were those 
of Tilly, but, with large intervals, were posted in what we would 
call massed columns, supported by small detachments in simi- 
lar formation in rear, and some in more dispersed order, cover- 
ing the intervals in the front line. All the Swedish artillery was 
posted in front of this centre, which was commanded by Teuffel, 
while on his left were drawn up more cavalry and musketeers 
in similar formation to those on the right, and here that staunch 
old soldier, General Horn, was in command. The second line 
of the Swedish army consisted of Baner's regiments of horse, 
supporting the king ; three battalions of infantry, two of cav- 
alry, and some reserve guns supporting Teuffel ; the entire line 
being formed in separate masses with intervals equal to those in 
the front line. The reserves — cavalry on right and left, infantry 
in centre — were commanded by Hall, Hepburn and Baudissen, 
and some Scotch troops were here placed. 

The Saxon wing on the left, by orders from Gustavus Adol- 
phus, adopted a similar formation — Arnheim being in the centre 
and the Elector of Saxony commanding the second line, but it 
was a new formation with them and seemed to prove embar- 
rassing. And now for one important particular. Despite its 
solidity and depth, the Imperialist line extended beyond both 
flanks of the Swedish-Saxon. 

Now, as we stand here in the suburbs of the little hamlet of 
Podelwitz where the army crossed the stream, let us take a good 
look at this field. A far more terrible battle is to be fought in 
this neighborhood — one that will drive the great Napoleon in 
retreat, but it will be no more decisive in its results than that 
which Gustavus Adolphus and Tilly are to fight this hot, dry 
September day. 

Here on gently rising ground, just west of Podelwitz, we can 
overlook the entire battle, and it will be one worth seeing. 
Right in our front, just beneath us, stand the reserves of Sweden's 



POSITION OF THE ALLIES. 259 

army, the troopers dismounted and at their horses' heads, the 
infantry leaning on their pikes or matchlocks. We are behind 
the centre of the right wing, and these masses nearest us are 
Hepburn's Scotchmen. Off to the left on line with him are the 
few English under Hall. There were over 6,000 of these fel- 
lows when they first came across the channel under Hamilton, 
but Dutch black bread and sour beer disagreed with them ; 
and plague, pestilence and famine have thinned them out to a mere 
shadow of their former force. A winding road leads down past 
our left hand behind Hall's men, then sweeps around still further 
to the southward and finally turns abruptly to the west, crosses 
the level plain and disappears through a dip in the opposite 
range. That road divides our Saxons from the Swedes, for 
that is the Saxon army off to the south. If you look carefully 
you will see that they do not stand out as far to the front as the 
Swedish line. That ought not to be, but there is a low hill right 
in their midst; Arnheim has taken it for his position, and it 
looks very much as though the Elector of Saxony were behind 
it. King Gustavus sees nothing of this. He places little reliance 
on those fellows any way, and is busy getting his guns into 
position. Arnheim, imitating the tactics of the Imperialists, has 
crowded his battery on the little knoll where his standard is 
waving, and means to fire over the heads of his infantry. Gus- 
tavus is running his guns well out to the front and centre. Battery 
after battery is quietly unlimbering there in front of Teuffel. The 
rest of the army is in position and resting on its arms. 

Now look across the plain. There stretches that long, low 
range of slopes, the entire crest black with batteries, the guns 
run well to the edge, the cannoneers lounging beside their 
pieces. Just why they so calmly spare us is more than many 
an old soldier can understand. They ought to be banging away 
at this instant. Now too the wind is rising and puffs of dust 
whirl up from the sun-baked roads and fields, that soon gather 
into dense clouds and come drifting down upon us. A moment 
ago we could see the steeples of the little churches at Linden- 
thai and Breitenfeld peering above the range ; could plainly see 
the dense tree-tops of the wood of Gross Widderitzch beyond 



260 



LEIPSIC. 



the plateau; could count the standards in the long,' solid ranks 
of foot and horse facing us across the fields. Now the dust- 
clouds shut them out of sight more than half the time. 

It is just noon. Suddenly a simultaneous jet of flame and 
roar of thunder breaks from the guns in our front. Gustavus 
has opened fire on the heights. In an instant every gun in 
front of Teuffel is at work. In another instant the opposite 
crest leaps into flame, and the answer comes booming back at us. 
It is the opening of the first battle of Leipsic. 

For two mortal hours, through stifling clouds of smoke and 
dust, this cannonade goes on, and with the wind at his back 
Tilly has plainly the best of it. Gustavus can stand it no longer. 
See! He with his cuirassiers, the intermingling infantry, the 
whole right of the front line, is moving off northward, marching 
rapidly too, and Teuffel has faced some of his line to the right 
to follow, while General Baner's horsemen mount and slowly 
ride off to the right front. What does it mean ? Simply that 
Gustavus wants to sweep around where the dust will not blow 
in his face, and, if possible, attack that range from the north; 
take it in flank where its artillery can do him little damage, 
planted as it is. But Pappenheim's wing, all cavalry, stretches out 
beyond the extreme right. It is a hazardous move. The instant 
that fiery soldier catches sight of it he will swoop down upon 
the flank, orders or no orders. Sure enough, the mingled dust 
and smoke-cloud has raised for a moment, and with tremendous 
cheering 3,000 mail-clad horsemen come spurring out across the 
plain. A great regiment of infantry, 2,000 strong, obliques to 
the left in support. There is a broad gap between the cuirassiers 
of Gustavus and Teuffel's infantry, and straight for that gap and 
for those between the troops of Swedish horse, the leaders of 
Pappenheim's cavalry are spurring. They know well the valor 
and prowess of the Swedish swordsman, and have no desire to 
meet him hand-to-hand until his array is first broken. But look! 
The cuirassiers quickly wheel to the left to meet the charge. 
The little squares of matchlock men blaze with the unexpected 
discharge of their heavy muskets. Dozens of saddles are emp- 
tied ; a thousand dragoons, perhaps, ride at thundering gallop 




GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS. (A. Van Dyck.) 
KING OF SWEDEN. 



PAPPENHEIM'S MISFORTUNE. 261 

through the broad gap and are preparing to wheel to right 
and left, and, madly exulting over their easy victory, about to 
charge the rear of the Swedish troops, when — mark the skill 
of Sweden's tactician! — with irresistible impulse and flashing 
swords the battalions of Baner, the Swedish second line of 
cavalry, whirl in upon them. Two thousand Imperial horse, two 
thousand Imperial infantry, the regiment of Holstein, are caught 
in a trap. Pappenheim, raging at his misfortune, calls off his 
horsemen and forms again, charging a second, a third — indeed, 
he swears he charged seven times on that inflexible right and 
could make no impression. Gustavus simply holds back his 
cuirassiers until Baner and Baudissen have annihilated the Duke 
of Holstein and his men. A solid front is maintained against 
Pappenheim; he is wearing himself out against it; has lost 3,000 
men already, and it is barely four o'clock. He sends staff-officers 
innumerable, one after another, begging Tilly for aid, but Tilly 
is doubly exasperated at the scrape into which his rash and in- 
subordinate subordinate has plunged him. He sees only one 
way to retrieve his fortune, and will need every man. At least 
he can have some revenge on those Saxons and on the Swedish 
left. They will not attack him ; so, while Pappenheim holds Gus- 
tavus off to the north, he will demolish the left. All his guns 
concentrate for a few minutes upon the disturbed and irresolute 
Saxons, then thunder at the Swedish left, where Horn com- 
mands, then cease firing as Fiirstenburg's whole wing leaps to 
the front, bearing down on the Saxons of Arnheim, and Tilly 
advances his right centre upon Horn. It is a magnificent ad- 
vance. Arnheim's six guns thunder harmlessly at the squadrons 
as they come cantering out from under the shadows of the 
heights, then break into the gallop ; but long before they get 
within musket-range of the Saxon troops those raw levies 
crumble away from the left flank, and look ! before Arnheim can 
check it, whole regiments are melting away and come drifting 
back. Another moment and the Imperialist horse are among 
them, and then — all is rout and confusion. 

Foremost among the fugitives is the elector himself. He 
never draws rein until he gets to Eilenburg, miles behind us. 



262 LEIPSIC. 

Only one division stands : the Saxons of Arnheim, next to 
Horn's line, hold their ground. Tilly, sweeping forward in vehe- 
ment attack of the left centre, is met by a furious cannonade from 
all the guns of Teuffel's front. The whole line is now wrapped in 
smoke and dust, so as to be indistinguishable. Fiirstenburg, with 
his entire cavalry force, has swept around the Swedish left in 
pursuit of the craven Saxons ; the infantry of Tilly have seized 
the guns left by Arnheim on the mound, and now are turn- 
ing them towards his sole remaining division, so as to sweep 
the Swedish line. Things look black at this end. Quickly, 
however, the three battalions of Hall face to the left and charge 
the captors of the guns. They in turn are enveloped and as- 
sailed by Fiirstenburg's returning troopers. Hall himself is 
killed and Collenbach's regiment well-nigh swept out of exist- 
ence. But by this time all these gallant Scots of the grand re- 
serve in the centre, Hepburn, with Lord Reay, and Ramsay, 
have marched down across that now bloody road, and formed 
line facing south, to repel the new attack; and Colonels Lums- 
den and Vitzheim have formed their regiments on their left. All 
Fiirstenburg's horsemen are now recalled from pursuit, and the 
fiercest, hottest part of the battle is raging right here to our left. 
Tilly watches it hopefully ; Gustavus is too far off to see. Vic- 
tory is with the latter ; for, while we have been watching this des- 
perate struggle on our left, he and his cuirassiers have sent Pap- 
penheim's troopers whirling in rout and confusion through Breit- 
enfeld and Lindenthal ; and now, hardly waiting to reform his 
squadrons, he comes sweeping down close under the range from 
the north, taking the Imperialist infantry in flank, while many 
of his adventurous horsemen, spurring up the slopes, are sabering 
the men at the silent guns. The news that his left was utterly 
routed reached Tilly but a moment before he heard that his centre, 
behind him, was broken and falling back across the crest. But 
here, around him and to his front, all is victory, or, at least, hope. 
He can yet sweep those stubborn Swedes back through Podel- 
witz. All his remaining infantry are hurried to the front, as 
now, for the first time, he realizes the error he made in leaving 
all the guns in the heights ; now they are useless ; worse than 
that, in jeopardy, 



TILLY'S ARMY BADLY BEATEN. 263 

The bravest veterans of the Imperial host are here with him, 
and under Furstenburg. Such cavalry as they have met are no 
match for them. Now they are pitted against those exasper. 
atingly cool battalions of Swedish foot. Again and again they 
charge them, but, instead of reducing front and deepening their 
files, the " Norsemen " seem encouraged by their own steadi- 
ness ; they lengthen their lines, form only three deep, and then, 
front rank kneeling, second rank bending low, and third rank 
standing erect, they pour volley after volley into the Imperialist 
squadrons. Then Saxon Arnheim rallies his dragoons, and they 
are hovering about the flanks of the worn-out cavalry ; and now, 
can it be ? Yes ; surely, steadily the Swedish footmen are ad- 
vancing, pushing before them the broken remnants of Tilly's 
lines. In vain he storms and rages, riding hither and thither : 
he cannot check the backward move. Already the cuirassiers of 
Adolphus are hammering at his exposed left ; Arnheim has swung 
around against his right. Sweden, represented by its stalwart 
infantry under Teuffel, is steadily pushing him back. Suddenly 
he hears the thunder of his own guns on the heights behind him, 
and their missiles come tearing huge gaps through his gasping 
ranks. Mortal man can stand no more ; the King of Sweden 
has turned upon him his own guns ; the army of Tilly is routed, 
and pursuit sweeps it from the field. 

Just at sunset the last of its once brilliant array backs through 
the depression in the ridge opposite the Swedish centre. The 
ridge itself is taken ; the cavalry is fleeing for Halle beyond 
Saxon territory. Only four organized regiments of veterans re- 
main, and these, throwing themselves into the forest back of the 
heights, with desperate gallantry maintain themselves there 
against the king himself until darkness puts an end to the fight, 
and the battered remnant is allowed to retire. 

Tilly, Furstenburg and Pappenheim are wounded ; 7,000 dead 
and wounded Imperialists are left upon the field ; many are 
prisoners ; every gun is taken, and one hundred standards, the 
proud colors of the Imperialists, are in the hands of Adolphus, 
and so complete is the rout and destruction of this dreaded army 
of Tilly that, while Pappenheim can only rally 1,400 of his 



264 



LEIPSIC. 



wing, Tilly himself, at Halle, can muster not a thousand. The 
Saxons deservedly suffered for running as they did, and lost 
2,000 men ; but the losses of Sweden proper did not exceed 700. 
The victory, like the disparity in losses, is simply overwhelming. 
But the moral effect of this great battle is something far more 
serious than even the annihilation of Tilly's army. The prestige 
of that vehement leader is gone forever, and he himself, meets 
his death soon after at the combat on the Lech. The hitherto 
invincible Imperialists are utterly routed in fair fight, in open 
field and on chosen ground, by the " Snow King," as they had 
contemptuously called him. All Protestant Germany rallied to 
the standard of this new Christian hero, whose first act, on dis- 
mounting on the hard-won field of Breitenfeld, was to kneel 
amid the dead and dying, and render thanks to God for aid and 
guidance. To him was now committed the cause of Protestantism, 
and with it that of the allies, who for political reasons had joined 
against Austria and Spain. France was Catholic in religion, 
and was now disposed to look with jealous distrust upon the un- 
limited power of a Protestant king. This led to further compli- 
cations in the Thirty Years' War. 

IP 




** Swedes \ 
:J>v: i-% K&Saxoru. 



LUTZEN. 




1632. 

ITH the sword in one hand and mercy in the 
other, Gustavus Adolphus marched to and 
fro in Germany after his great victory at 
Leipsic. He appeared at once as conqueror, 
judge and lawgiver. Cities and fortresses 
opened their gates at his approach, and the 
standards of Sweden were planted along the 
banks of the great rivers. There is no time 
to follow his victorious movements. The 
leaders of the League were well-nigh desperate when their last 
general, Tilly, met his death-wound in contesting with the con- 
queror the passage of the river Lech. They had only one man 
whose intellect and power seemed a possible match for the in- 
vincible King of Sweden, and that one man was the very Wal- 
lenstein whom they had deposed and humiliated but a short 
time before. 

In his retirement he was known to have made overtures to 
Gustavus Adolphus, asking a command under his banners and 
pledging him vehement support. Hatred of the powers that 
had robbed him of his high command had turned Wallenstein 
into a traitor. He was a man who could bear to be second to 
nobody; cold, crafty, intensely selfish, utterly unprincipled, en- 
riched to a fabulous extent by plunder, he was bound, even 
among his own people, either to rule or to ruin. Gustavus 
wisely hesitated about placing so unreliable a person in a posi- 
tion of vast trust and power — put him off with the plea that his 
army was too weak in numbers to permit the assignment to him 
of an independent command ; but Wallenstein saw through the 

(265) 



266 LUTZEN. 

pretext and hated the king accordingly, and next we find him at 
the head of a powerful Imperialist army. Doubting him, fearing 
him, the Emperor of Austria was reduced to the extremity of 
restoring him to supreme command, as the only means of 
securing his allegiance. So long as he was at the head of 
affairs, with power at his back, it made little difference to Wal- 
lenstein on which side he fought. All Europe knew his great 
ability, and all Europe held its breath now to watch the battle 
of the giants, to be fought between the two most renowned sol- 
diers of the age — Gustavus Adolphus and Wallenstein, the Duke 
of Friedland. 

After much preliminary marching and manoeuvring, the 
armies met within a few miles of the scene of the great victory 
over Tilly, and northwestern Saxony again became the centre of 
movement. Wallenstein, with some 17,000 men, was encamped 
near the little town of Lutzen, west of Leipsic, and, on the 6th 
of November, 1632, Pappenheim, eager as ever for battle, was 
hurrying to join him with 10,000 more. 

With 12,000 foot and 6,500 horse, Gustavus Adolphus, bid- 
ding adieu to his queen at Erfurt, had taken the field to meet 
him. Sending forward his gallant ally, Duke Bernhard of Wei- 
mar, to Naumburg, on the Saal, only a day's march from 
Lutzen, he himself rapidly followed, being received by the peo- 
ple with the acclamation and reverence they would have given 
to a superior being. On Sunday, November 4th, an intercepted 
letter told him that Wallenstein was still encamped near Lutzen, 
a few miles farther to the northeast, and in apparent ignorance 
of his coming, and that Pappenheim was off near Halle, to the 
northward. Lutzen lay near Weissenfels, and a little river, the 
Rippach, lay between the camps of the Imperialists and the 
southwest, the direction from which Gustavus must come. 
Hoping to attack and crush Wallenstein before Pappenheim 
could join him, the Swedish king pushed rapidly forward the 
very next day ; but, though his celerity enabled him to seize the 
little bridge across the Rippach after a brush with a small cav- 
alry outpost, Gustavus found the bridge so slight and so narrow 
as to require great care and deliberation in crossing. It took 



"BE HERE AT DAYBREAK." 267 

till nightfall to land his army on the eastern bank ; it was then 
too late to attack, and Wallenstein made good use of the delay. 
Couriers were sent to Pappenheim to come forward with all 
speed. " Be here at daybreak with every man and gun," were 
the brief orders, and the letter, stained with the general's life- 
blood, was found on his body the following night, showing how 
well he had obeyed his chief. Anticipating early attack, Wal- 
lenstein established his men in their positions, strengthened 
them with earthworks, hastily thrown up, but affording capital 
protection for his musketeers ; and during all the night and the 
early, misty morning, he rode tirelessly from point to point, 
leaving no stone unturned to make his defence secure. His 
original position had been somewhat " scattered," his troops 
being quartered among the hamlets north of and around Lutzen ; 
but a capital field of battle presented itself to his practised eye 
where the great high road, connecting Leipsic with Weissenfels, 
crossed the level plain from east to west, passing through 
Lutzen on the west end of the plain. A winding canal, con- 
necting the Saal and the Elster, cut the high road at right- 
angles, about two miles east of the village, and a very gentle rise 
in the ground, north of and parallel to the road, formed an ad- 
mirable line for his defence. With his right behind Lutzen, his 
left resting near and protected by the canal, facing nearly south, 
he stood ready to meet his great antagonist. Just north of the 
highway, where the rise in the ground was most marked, he 
planted his battery of position. Farther to the right, nearer 
Lutzen, stood a few windmills, and beyond them, close on the 
edge of the high road, stood the house of the miller. All these 
were speedily and skilfully turned into means of defence, for, 
until Pappenheim could reach him, Wallenstein would be out- 
numbered. He had seven heavy guns in the battery of position, 
and fourteen light field-pieces were placed in front of the wind- 
mills. During the night, too, his musketeers deepened the 
ditch north of the highway, and lined it with a strong body of 
marksmen. Beyond all question, Wallenstein had made the 
most of his ground. As to the tactical disposition of his troops, 
there is so much dispute among historians that it is hard to say 



268 LUTZEN. 

just how they were drawn up. Wallenstein, with most of the 
infantry in very heavy masses, occupied the centre; the right, 
supporting the windmill batteries, was intrusted to Count Colo- 
redo; the left, early in the action, at least, to Hoik. By some 
authors it is claimed that his infantry was divided into five 
brigades, four being with him in the centre, one on the right 
with Coloredo. Each brigade formed as an independent square, 
with projecting masses of pikemen at the four angles. Others 
would indicate that the footmen of the Imperialist army had 
been divided into twelve parallelograms, somewhat longer than 
they were deep, and that eight of these were placed in the front 
line, the others being held in the second in reserve. The cav- 
alry, in accordance with time-honored custom, occupied the 
flanks, and the entire front was nearly two miles in length, with 
the highway about three hundred yards out to the front. All 
baggage-wagons were sent off to the rear of Liitzen ; all ammu- 
nition wagons were parked in rear of the centre, and, to make 
the array as numerically formidable as possible in appearance, 
Wallenstein caused all sutlers and camp-followers to be mounted 
and massed like a large body of reserve cavalry in rear of his 
left wing. 

Immediately on crossing the Rippach, King Gustavus, riding 
forward, had taken in the situation at a glance. Instead of 
finding Wallenstein unprepared and in small force he saw that 
he had most skillfully seized upon the advantages of the ground, 
that his force was apparently as great as his own, and that with 
Pappenheim only a short march away at Halle, he would be 
sure of making a junction in the morning. But the stout heart 
of King Gustavus did not fail him. There was no way now of 
avoiding the issue. The one thing to do was attack vigorously 
at the earliest break of day, and trust to the guidance of God 
and the courage of his men to carry him through and sweep 
the Imperialists from the ground before Pappenheim could come 
up. So, whatever may have been his disappointment, the king 
maintained his cheery, buoyant, hopeful demeanor, and quickly 
deployed his men in his favorite order of battle — that which 
had been so successful at Leipsic. It was almost dusk when 
the first line was formed. 



DISPOSITION OF GUSTAVUS' FORCES. 269 

With his right resting- on the canal, his left a little south of 
the town of Lutzen, Gustavus placed his cavalry and infantry 
intermingled in regiments and battalions some four hundred 
yards south of the highway, supported by the second line, two 
hundred and fifty yards farther to the rear. In the centre, eight 
regiments of infantry were skillfully drawn up in supporting 
columns in the two lines, those in front in line of battle six deep. 
The cavalry of both flanks, front line, three deep — those of the 
rear lines and reserves in massed columns. Companies of mus- 
keteers of from 50 to 100 strong were placed between the 
squadrons on the wings. To Duke Bernhard of Weimar was 
intrusted the command of the left wing, nearly all the German 
cavalry being there stationed. Count Nicholas Brahe com- 
manded the solid infantry in the centre, the king himself led the 
Swedes of the right wing, and, while the artillery was distrib- 
uted all along the front, the reserve in rear of the centre 
near the little hamlet of Chursitz consisted, as at Leipsic, of 
the Scots, and was commanded by Henderson. Of the gallant 
Scotchmen who had rendered him such excellent service at 
Leipsic few were left. Hepburn, Reay and Ramsay were no 
longer there, but in his second line, commanding the infantry, 
was a Swedish soldier who had won the confidence and respect 
of his master on many an intervening field, — General Knip- 
hausen. 

Late in the evening the dispositions were completed. Never, 
perhaps, did rival commanders pass the night before desperate 
battle with such complete realization of the consequences that 
must attend the coming struggle. Each fully appreciated the 
skill and courage of his adversary. Each felt that defeat meant 
ruin either to the cause he championed, as was the case with the 
king, or to himself, as was the case with cold-blooded and cal- 
culating Wallenstein. The former passed the night in his car- 
riage, occasionally conversing with some of his generals as to 
the duties of the coming day, occasionally in silent prayer. 
The latter, gloomy, stern, abstracted and repellant as ever, took 
counsel with no one, but restlessly moved to and fro, satisfying 
himself that all was well. In point of numbers engaged 



270 LUTZEN. 

Liitzen was not the prominent battle of the war. In point of 
the renown of its contestants it was the battle of the century. 

At the first break of day on the chill, wintry morning of No- 
vember 6th, 1632, both armies were astir; but, to the disappoint- 
ment of the King of Sweden, a cold, thick, penetrating fog had 
lowered over the plain. Riding out towards the high road 
where his sentinels were posted, within stone's throw of the Im- 
perialist musketeers, he found that objects ten yards away were 
mere blurs, and that it was impossible to distinguish the posi- 
tion of the guns on the northern slope. This would never do. 
It was necessary that he should be able to see the entire field, 
and all beyond a dozen yards was shrouded in mystery. There 
could be no telling what might be going on in the enemy's lines, 
and, as his part would be the attack, clear sight, at least, was in- 
dispensable. The sun rose but the fog did not; and in deep 
anxiety Gustavus rode back to his lines. He had planned to 
attack at dawn, and to finish the fight before Pappenheim could 
possibly come to the rescue. Now attack was impossible un- 
less he trusted to blind luck, and that he would not do. There 
was no help for it but to wait the lifting of the fog, which would 
be sure to follow the sun's climbing, toward the zenith. Mean- 
time, dressed in a plain buff coat, without armor, the king ap- 
peared before his men. First he had caused his chaplain, Fa- 
bricius, to read prayers with him alone ; then, out in front of his 
line, the monarch knelt and implored the blessing of the Al- 
mighty on the issues of the day ; and his soldiers, catching sight 
of him, struck up the grand old Lutheran hymn, that to this 
day is the stirring chant of the German soldier before going into 
action : " Ein' feste Burg ist unser Gott " — " Our God is a strong 
tower." Starting among the footmen of Brahe in the centre, it 
was taken up right and left, and soon the sonorous voices of 
thousands of bearded men blended in the ringing, majestic 
melody, and the morning air resounded with the swelling 
chorus. The king himself, when the notes had died away, led 
them in another hymn ; then, mounting, he rode among and ad- 
dressed them. To his Swedes he said : " My brave and beloved 
subjects, yonder is the enemy you have sought so long, not 



GUSTAVUS ADDRESSES HIS ARMY. 271 

now sheltered by strong ramparts, nor posted on inaccessible 
heights, but ranged in fair and open field. Advance then, by- 
God's help, not so much to fight as to conquer. Spare not your 
blood, your lives, for your king, your country, your God ; and 
the present and eternal blessing of the Almighty, and an illus- 
trious name throughout the Christian world, await you. But if, 
which God forbid, you prove cowards, I swear that not a bone 
of you shall return to Sweden." 

Then he rode over to the left, among the Germans of Duke 
Bernhard : " My brave allies and fellow-soldiers," he said to 
them, " I adjure you by your fame, your honor and your con- 
science ; by the interests temporal and eternal now at stake ; 
by your former exploits, by the remembrance of Tilly and the 
Breitenfeld, bear yourselves bravely to-day. Let the field before 
you become illustrious by a similar slaughter. Forward ! I will 
be this day not only your general, but your comrade. I will 
not only command you, I will lead you on. Add your efforts 
to mine. Extort from the enemy, by God's help, that victory 
of which the chief fruits will be to you and your children. But, 
if you shrink from the contest, remember that religion, liberty, 
all, will be lost, and that by your remissness." 

Both Swedes and Germans responded to his addresses with 
cheers and every evidence of enthusiasm and devotion ; but it 
was evident that the king was deeply sensible of the utter sol- 
emnity of the ordeal before him, and again — this time aloud — 
he invoked, before his troops, the blessing of heaven on their 
efforts. 

And still that damp, depressing fog clung to the ground. It 
was ten o'clock. Gustavus, riding restlessly to and fro, had not 
eaten a mouthful. He was all impatience for the fog to raise. 

At last, it must have been towards noon, a light breeze began 
to sweep over the scene. The sun, swinging around to the 
south, began to make itself felt on the backs of the Swedish 
army, and, between wind and sun, the fog slowly lifted, rolled 
away northward, and first the trees along the highway became 
visible ; then the dry, deserted roadway ; then the heads of the 
skirmishers in the ditch beyond ; then the turf of the level 



272 



LUTZEN. 



ground still farther north ; then the slopes, the black muzzles 
and mud-covered carriages of the guns, the alert forms of the 
cannoneers ; then the mounted squadrons, the heavy masses of 
bristling infantry, the ghostly-looking windmills off to the north- 
west, with the field-batteries unlimbered in front of them ; then 
the walls and roofs of Liitzen to the west, all in a broad blaze 
of flame, for Wallenstein had set the town afire to prevent a 
Swedish lodgment there ; then the open landscape and country 
roads far to the north, beyond the Imperialist lines ; then clouds 
of dust off towards Halle — Pappenheim was coming. There 
was not an instant to lose. 

Almost at the same second the artillery of the opposing lines 
burst into thundering and deadly salute. The Swedish and 
German trumpets sounded the charge, and in one grand, simul- 
taneous attack, primitive as that of the days before Epaminondas, 
the entire line of Sweden, " horse, foot and dragoon," swept 
forward. The high road was gained and crossed in an instant; 
the skirmishers in the ditch beyond scattered for their lives to 
the rear. " God with us," was the war-cry of the northern army, 
as they scrambled through the wet and muddy trench, and re- 
formed lines on the northern side. Then, with mad impulse, the 
German horsemen on the left, led by Duke Bernhard, dashed 
full at the guns under the windmills, and the Swedish cuirassiers 
on the right, heavy armed and led by the king himself, were 
hurled at the lightly-mounted Poles and Croats of the Imperial- 
ist left. These latter were overturned and sent scurrying from 
the field in the twinkling of an eye. It looked for ten minutes 
as though Sweden would march right over the Imperialist lines. 
The battery of position in the centre was seized so suddenly, 
that Wallenstein had not time to advance his infantry to sup- 
port the gunners ; the next moment the stalwart footmen of 
Brahe were through the battery and grappling hand to hand 
with the Imperialist squares. In five minutes' sharp fighting, 
such was the rush and impetus of the Swedish charge, three foot- 
brigades of Wallenstein's centre were overwhelmed and borne 
back upon the second line. In absolute amaze the Duke of 
Friedland saw his left wing swept away, his centre yielding, his 



WALLENSTEIN RALLIES HIS SURPRISED FORCES. 273 

right sorely pressed. Verily, these hymn-singing Protestants 
knew how to fight. 

But the duke was brave, fearless, energetic. With the rapidity 
of thought he threw himself in rear of the centre ; ordered for- 
ward the brigades of the second line ; personally rallied and re- 
stored the ranks of those that were drifting off towards the north ; 
turned them once more against the enemy and launched them in. 
The Swedes were already breathless with the exertion of their 
charge of half a mile over hedge, ditch and rough ground. 
They were now involved in a desperate hand-to-hand melee, and 
suddenly three regiments of Imperialist cavalry came thun- 
dering down upon them to the aid of Wallenstein's rallied in- 
fantry. Now Brahe in turn is overweighted, hemmed in, and 
presently borne slowly back. The strong pikemen of both armies 
are making desperate play with their deadly weapons ; there is 
no time for loading, and muskets are used like battering-rams 
against the enemies' faces. It is a struggle in which weight is 
bound to tell, and now the heavy masses of the Imperialists are 
pitted against the six-deep formation of the Swedes. The latter 
cannot help it; they must fall back. So too on the extreme left. 
The German cavalry have been unable to take the guns ; the in- 
fantry supports have been most vigilant ; all around the wind- 
mills the ground is cut up into little garden patches with mud 
walls ; every patch is full of marksmen, and the cavalry attack 
has been a failure. 

Off on the extreme right Gustavus has carried all before him, 
but now he learns with deep dismay that his centre is being 
beaten back and that his left is gone. 

Leaving matters on that flank to the care of General Horn, 
the king at once galloped to the west just as his infantry were 
being driven back through the heavy battery they had so lately 
captured. He had ordered Colonel Steinbock with his regiment 
of cuirassiers to follow him, but the king's horse outran them 
all, and he was practically the only mounted officer who, dash- 
ing in among the retreating footmen, seemed to be striving to 
check the move. Keen eyes among the Imperialists marked the 
commanding form, and noted how the Swedish soldiers halted 



274 LUTZEN. 

and faced them again as this tall horseman rode among the ranks, 
eagerly shouting and waving his sword. " Pick off that man " 
was the order, and in an instant the king became the target of 
an hundred musketeers ; a bullet tore through his arm, shatter- 
ing the bone and causing the mangled limb to hang by the 
quivering muscles and flesh. A cry of consternation went up 
among the Swedes — " The king is hit ! " and, though faint with 
agony, he laughs and cheers them on, but the blood is gushing 
in streams from his wound ; he grows fainter and reels in his 
saddle. By this time Duke Albert of Lauenburg has reached 
him and others of his staff. " Lead me to the rear," he whispers 
to the duke ; " but take me around to the right — not through the 
lines or they will think 'tis worse than it is." The infantry are 
still retiring as the duke leads his royal master, now weak and 
failing, hurriedly along the front. Then comes another merci- 
less volley ; the king reels again over his saddle-bow ; a shot has 
pierced him through and through. " Save yourself," he orders 
his friend; " I am gone," and at that instant a squad of Imperialist 
cavalry dash upon them and the king is left — alone. The duke 
spurs to the rear for aid ; the king, surrounded by assailants, 
receives several other wounds and pitches lifeless from his saddle. 
Another moment and the royal charger, riderless and covered 
with blood, tears along the Swedish lines and the dismal story 
is known. Gustavus Adolphus is killed. 

And now, instead of dispiriting them, the sight of the gory 
saddle seemed to inspire the entire army with renewed fervor 
and energy. Bernhard of Weimar at once assumed command. 
The entire line again advanced, and this time the windmill bat- 
teries were seized, held, and turned eastward so as to enfilade 
the Imperialist line. The Germans had really won the key- 
point of the battle. The Swedish infantry, both lines now, with 
the Duke of Weimar and Kniphausen, fought their way over the 
field and a second time captured the heavy battery. Then the 
shots of the artillery reached the Imperialist ammunition wagons 
in rear of the centre, and these began to ignite and explode with 
great uproar and damage. All was over with Wallenstein ; his 
whole line was in full retreat, when, suddenly, the dust-clouds 



PAPPENHEIM ARRIVES. 275 

that had been marked by Gustavus Adolphus an hour before far 
off to the north came sweeping upon the field. Pappenheim, 
with all his cuirassiers and dragoons, dashed upon the wearied 
Swedes; all that was gained was in jeopardy. Five minutes ago 
the battle was won by Sweden ; now there was no telling who 
would be the victor. 

Again Wallenstein rallied his infantry and brought them back 
into line. Again the Imperialist cavalry reformed and endeavored 
to aid their comrades of Pappenheim's division. As for that 
fiery soldier himself, he had received the order to join Wallen- 
stein only when his troops were scattered, plundering Halle. 
Never waiting for his infantry, he mounted his eight regiments 
of horse and started back towards Liitzen early in the morning ; 
met the Croats and Poles fleeing from the field before General 
Horn; spent some little time rallying them; then with his own 
fresh regiments and with these restored cavalrymen he bore 
down upon the field. Once more the Swedish infantry was 
driven back across the now blood-stained level. Once more the 
heavy guns became the property of their original owners. The 
whole " yellow regiment " of the Swedish line, it is said, was 
shot or sabred there, and, after winning the utmost distinction 
during the day, died almost to a man around those fatal guns. 
Another regiment, the blue, was surrounded and literally hacked 
to pieces by the Italian cavalry under Count Piccolomini. But 
Sweden was indomitable — her soldiers would die there as their 
king had died, but they would not give up the fight. 

Falling back behind their own guns, they permitted the 
artillerists to open on the fresh arrivals of Pappenheim. Then 
Pappenheim charged the guns, but was beaten back. Leading 
in a second time, this daring soldier became in his turn the target 
of the Swedish musketeers. Two bullets passed through his 
chest; he fell from his horse and was borne dying from the field. 
He had been searching everywhere for the King of Sweden, 
hoping to cross swords with the renowned monarch. Now, as 
he was borne to the rear, they told him that the king was killed. 
" Tell the Duke of Friedland," he said, " that I lie without a 
hope of life, but that I die happy since I know that the implacable 
enemy of my religion has fallen on the same day." 



276 LUTZEN. 

With the fall of Pappenheim the last hope of the Imperialists 
departed. Brave as he unquestionably was, Wallenstein lacked 
the magnetism that enables the leader to control the soldier in 
moments of panic or peril. The cavalry on the left again gave 
way before the Swedish cuirassiers ; the infantry of the centre 
reformed in support of the central guns, and, in the right wing, 
Coloredo, Gotz, Terzky and Piccolomini rallied and aligned their 
regiments ; but now the Swedish lines were formed for a last 
effort. To replace the yellow and blue regiments, which were 
already practically annihilated, the infantry of the second line 
was called to the front, and, for the third time, the footmen of 
Sweden advanced across the highway. The struggle over the 
guns was long, bloody and desperate ; but, as the sun went down, 
Wallenstein saw, with dumb dismay, that his men were incapa- 
ble of further effort. The seven heavy guns of the centre were 
for the third and last time taken and held by the soldiers of 
Sweden. Pappenheim's infantry, six fresh regiments, came up 
about nightfall, but the battle was over. 

Beyond all doubt the victory was with the army of Sweden. 
They had lost, it is true, their good, and generous and gallant 
king; the first general of the seventeenth century had perished 
on the field ; the only conqueror who could be merciful and just, 
that the world had yet known, lay stripped and slain among the 
bodies of his faithful soldiers, but the victory was his — and theirs. 
Wallenstein decamped that very night and fled to Leipsic, and 
thither, the next day, his army straggled. Abandoning every 
gun, abandoning their colors, they made their way after him, a 
whipped and dejected multitude. 

Yet, no sooner had Wallenstein become assured of the death 
of Gustavus Adolphus, than he claimed the victory, sent couriers 
and officers to the emperor announcing triumphant success ; 
caused Te Dennis to be sung in the cathedrals, and assumed all 
the triumphant bearing of a conqueror; but his sudden evacua- 
tion of Leipsic and Saxony, on hearing that the Duke of Wei- 
mar meant to assail him again, pricked the bubble of his reputa- 
tion, and the star of his wavering fortune set forever. Duke 
Bernhard marched into Leipsic a victor. Wallenstein, again 



GUSTAVUS AND WALLENSTEIN CONTRASTED. 277 

suspected of treason to the crown, died at the hand of assassins 
within fifteen months of his last battle. He had no friends ; he 
left none to mourn him. He was a man who had lived for self 
alone, and, though brave and resolute to the last, it was the 
bravery of desperation. 

On the other hand, Gustavus Adolphus, the soldier of his 
century, the statesman, scholar and Christian, died universally 
lamented: even his enemies were powerfully moved. His body 
was brought with reverent care to Weissenfels, thence to Wit- 
tenberg, and finally, with great pomp and ceremony, was con- 
veyed to Sweden, where, on the 18th of June, 1634, long after 
the death of Wallenstein, the honored remains were consigned 
to the grave. He had died in the flower of his age, in the midst 
of an eventful and most honored life, in the heart of what would 
have been his greatest victory. 

For a time after Liitzen, it looked as though the death of 
Gustavus would be a blow from which the Protestant cause 
could not rally ; but the genius of the Swedish chancellor, Oxen- 
stiern, and the brilliancy of his generals, kept the enemy at 
bay. We have no exact figures of the losses at Liitzen ; some 
9,000 men were known to have been killed, all told, and it is 
probable that the casualties were very equally divided. The list 
of wounded or contused in the Swedish army included pretty 
much every survivor, so desperate had been the fighting. 

But Austria was emboldened to new efforts, now that the 
dreaded king was out of the way; and in less than two years 
Bernhard of Weimar, with a strong army of Germans, Saxons 
and Swedes, was terribly defeated by the Imperialists at Nord- 
lingen, September 6th, 1634. Then Saxony lost heart and made 
peace at Prague with Austria, by the terms of which the Luther- 
ans abandoned the struggle with her and became, with Saxony, 
allies of Austria. This left the German Calvinists to their fate, 
and so complicated the questions of the war that, in order to re- 
tain for his country the possessions won by Gustavus Adolphus, 
Oxenstiern diplomatically turned over the direction of the war 
to Cardinal Richelieu, of France. Now it was no longer Pro- 
testant against Catholic, but France, Sweden and North Ger- 



278 LUTZEN. 

many against Austria, Spain and Italy; with Saxony, Bohemia 
and the Palatinate alternately trampled under foot by both par- 
ties. Nor was there much concert of action. The troops of 
Sweden, under General Baner, were retained in North Germany, 
making occasional dashes to the south, to the great alarm of 
Austria. Duke Bernhard reorganized his army, and was fight- 
ing independently along the Rhine in hopes of winning Alsace 
for himself; and two great soldiers, Turenne and Conde, were 
leading the armies of France against the allies on the German 
frontier and in Spain. 

The Imperialist party had the best of the fight for some time 
after Nordlingen, for the features of the war were now entirely 
changed and, happily, entering on their last phase ; but the pro- 
ject of invading France was defeated by the energy of the 
Swedes under Baner, who kept the Austrians incessantly em- 
ployed in Bohemia and Silesia, and won a great battle from 
them at Wittstock (October 4th, 1636). Then came a series of 
fights in which Sweden was uniformly successful, and two more 
marked victories at Breitenfeld — which thus became distinguished 
a second time — and Yankowitz added to the lustre of her arms. 
On the Rhine, however, Duke Bernhard fared badly, and at 
last the great French generals, Conde and Turenne, came to his 
rescue, and drove the leaguers back into Bavaria — winning at 
Nordlingen, August 3d, 1645, the battle which virtually termi- 
nated the struggle, and the peace of Westphalia ended the 
Thirty Years' War. 




ARMS AND ACCOUTREMENTS, 15TH TO 1BTH CENTURIES. 

i ror description^ see next page.\ 



Arms and Accoutrements, 15th to 18th Centuries. 

Numbers refer to Illustrations on preceding page. 



i. Pistolet, 1 8th Century. 

2. Carbine, 17th Century. 

3. Espingole. 

4. Matchlock Gun. 

5. Gun Rest. 

6. Marrocain. 

7. Flint Lock. 18th Century. 

8. Battle Axe. 

9. Hussite Mace. 

10. Lance. 

1 1 . Hussite Mace. 

12. Halberd. 

13. Hussite Mace. 

14. Halberd. 

15. Battle Axe. 

16. Cabasset, 16th Century. 

17. Italian Hat, 18th Century. 

18. Hessian Cap, 18th Century. 

19. Cabasset, 15th Century. 

20. Polish Hat, 18th Century. 

21. Dragoon Hat. 

22. Cossack Cap, 18th Century. 

23. Swiss Infantry Hat. 

24. English Cavalier Hat. 

25. 26. Cavalry Casque, 15th Cen- 

tury. 

27. Hussar' Cap, 1 8th Century. 

28. Chasseur Cap, 18th Century. 

29. Sappeur Cap, 18th Century. 

30. Russian Grenadier Cap, 18th 

Century. 

31. French Headpiece, 15th Cen- 

tury. 

32. Shako. 

^^. Loading Shovel. 

34. Wiper. 



35. Ramrod. 

36. Priming Fork. 

37. German 12-Pounder, 1650. 

38. Herisson. 

39. Mortar, 16th Century. 

40. Round Shot. 

41. Shrapnel Shot. 

42. Fire Ball. 

43. Chain Shot. 

44. Bar Shot. 

45. Round Shot. 

46. Hand Grenade. 

47. Bomb Shell. 

48. Prussian Cannon, 18th Cen- 

tury. 

49. Priming Rod. 

50. 51, 52. War Rockets. 
53» 54» 55- Storming Pikes. 

56. Danish Cannon, 17 13. 

57. Powder Cask. 

58. Swiss Cannon, 15th Century. 

59. English Howitzer, 18th Cen- 

tury. 

60. Halberdier, 15th Century. 

61. 62, 63. Swords, 15th and 16th 

Centuries. 

64. Bayonet, 18th Century. 

65. Armor, 15th Century. 

66. Powder Flask. 

67. Bullet Mould. 

68. Powder Flask. 

69. 70, 71. Swords, 17th and 18th 

Centuries. 

72. Sabre. 

73. Spanish Arquebusier, 1 6th Cen- 

tury. 




COUNT dk STAEEMBEEG DEFENDING THE WALLS OF VIENNA 
AGAINST THE TURKS.— P. Martin. 




VIENNA. 

1683. 

'IENNA, the beautiful capital of the Empire of 
Austria, lies on a level plain surrounded by a 
circle of low hills and traversed by the river 
Danube. Its name is taken from a sluggish 
stream, the Wien, which flows under the walls 
into an arm of the great river that separates the 
city from the suburb of Leopoldstadt on the 
northeast. From its geographical position and 
its political importance, the city has been sub- 
jected to several sieges, and has been the scene of many a great 
conference and treaty of peace between the various European 
powers ; but for years of its early existence it lay in the track 
of every horde of barbaric invaders, and after the establishment 
of Mussulman power in Eastern Europe it was incessantly 
threatened by the Turks. These people besieged it in strong 
force in 1529, but it was gallantly defended and they were 
driven back with great loss. Then, during the Thirty Years' 
War, the troops of Sweden several times came within alarming 
proximity to its walls, but without attack. Then came a brief 
respite, and finally in 1683, nearly forty years after the close of 
the long and disheartening war in which the empire had been 
engaged, there came a siege that well-nigh wiped it out of ex- 
istence. 

Leopold I. was Emperor of Austria. He had been crowned 
King of Hungary in 1654, but had to fight for his possessions 
with the Turks, in which contest his general, the same Monte- 
cuculi who had won such distinction in the Thirty Years' War, 
gained a great victory over the infidels at St. Gothard, on the 

(279) 



280 



VIENNA. 



Raab, and from that time the sultan had been busily preparing 
his revenge. 

In 1683 the grand vizier, Kara Mustapha, marched with an 
immense army and powerful train to lay siege to Vienna, and 
humble it and its master in the dust. Leopold stood not 
upon the order of his going, but, with his family, court and 
thousands of inhabitants, he went at once. The country was 
filled with fugitives, carts and plunder, and the Turks, falling 
upon the hindermost, slaughtered or made captive as they saw 
fit. On the 7th of July they drew their lines around the city 
and leisurely proceeded to reduce it. So secure did the vizier 
feel against counter-attack on his great army that he disdained 
to fortify his camps. 

Vienna, with its strong fortifications, its artillery, magazines 
and public buildings, had been confided to the charge of the 
Count de Staremberg, a thorough theoretical soldier. He burned 
the suburbs outside the walls, so as to clear the way for his guns, 
and then, with a garrison of ^erhaps 15,000 effectives, he set 
about the task of defending the capital against probably five 
times that many. Staremberg's garrison was largely made up 
of citizens and the students of the university, armed and enrolled 
for the emergency. His regular troops did not exceed 10,000. 
Mustapha had three hundred guns and a brave, devoted and 
war-trained army, strong enough in numbers to entirely encircle 
the city and to send a " corps of devastation " 40,000 strong to 
kill, burn and destroy through Hungary, Silesia and Moravia. 
This force with its roving commission was very successfully met 
and parried by the Duke of Lorraine with 30,000 men ; but he 
had been early driven away from supporting distance of Vienna, 
and could render no actual assistance to the garrison after the 
first few days of the siege. 

The Turks broke ground for their first trenches in the suburb 
of St. Ulric, on the 14th of July, about fifty yards from the ditch 
which, partly dry, partly flooded, extended around the walls. 
Their first breaching batteries were speedily planted and a storm 
of solid shot was poured upon the masonry. Staremberg was 
grievously wounded at the very outset by a heavy fragment of 



THE CITY INVESTED. 281 

stone, but refused to rest or turn over the command. He was 
the soul of the defence, cheering, animating, encouraging every- 
where. By July 2 2d the Turks had worked their way up to 
the palisading, which the garrison could defend only with sword 
and with scythes fastened to long poles, but they fought so vig- 
orously and well, that not until the 7th of August did the be- 
siegers succeed in winning the counterscarp. Then came the 
work of digging their way down into the ditch in face of a sharp 
fire from the parapet. They here resorted to tunneling, for the 
besieged, though short of powder and hand-grenades, found an 
inventive genius in the Baron de Kielmansegg, who not only 
made a very fair powder, but manufactured shells out of stiff 
clay, that, dropped and exploded among the burrowing Mussul- 
mans, worried them infinitely and greatly retarded their work. 
Once in the ditch the Turks resorted to their specialty — mining. 
They had utterly destroyed the walls in many places a century 
before, and hoped again to ruin them now. Provisions were run- 
ning short, ammunition was scant and poor, disease was thinning 
the ranks of the defenders, and when the 22d of August came, it 
was conceded that they could not hold out more than three days. 
Most of the cannon were broken or dismounted. The walls 
were honey-combed, the foundations shattered by mines. The 
situation was critical in the last degree, and Staremberg, vainly 
imploring aid from the Duke of Lorraine, wrote him that not 
another instant could be lost if Vienna was to be saved. But so 
secure was the Turkish leader of his prize and the rich plunder 
that awaited him, that he refrained from assault, confidently ex- 
pecting the city to capitulate, and never dreaming of interference 
from outside. 

But in his flight and refuge Leopold had appealed for aid to 
the only man then living who was a terror to the Tartar, John 
Sobieski, King of Poland. Rich and powerful Austria begged 
this little monarchy to come to the rescue of the empire and the 
Christian world; and, at the head of 25,000 veteran troops, 
Sobieski started. He had to march nearly six hundred miles 
the winding way he came, but on the 5th of September he was 
crossing the bridge of Tuln, fifteen miles above Vienna. His 



282 VIENNA. 

cavalry were superbly mounted, uniformed and equipped ; his 
infantry were in rags and tatters. The people looked aghast at 
their poverty-stricken appearance, but Sobieski laughed it off. 
" Those fellows," said he, " have taken an oath to wear no 
clothes except those of the enemy. In the last war they were 
all dressed as Turks." And his hardy soldiers seemed to de- 
light in the joke. On September 7th the army of Poland had 
joined that of Germany, and the united forces were now 74,000 
strong. Four sovereigns were among the leaders — Sobieski of 
Poland, Maximilian of Bavaria, John George III. of Saxony, and 
Charles V., Duke of Lorraine. To the first-named was accorded 
the command-in-chief, for he was already recognized as the finest 
soldier then in the ranks of war. Sobieski lost no time in or- 
ganizing his forces. He well knew the desperate condition of 
affairs in Vienna, and that he could not too soon appear before 
the walls to the relief of the suffering garrison. Two days were 
spent in assigning the various brigades and regiments to appro- 
priate commanders, and in instructing his generals in the plan 
of operations. Then, on the 9th of September, the army pushed 
forward to force their way over the broken and rugged heights 
that intervened between them and Vienna, dragging their artil- 
lery with them. So difficult a task did this prove that the Ger- 
mans gave it up and left their guns behind ; but the Polanders, 
better disciplined and far more determined, dragged theirs over 
rock and ravine, and, after two days' vehement exertion, suc- 
ceeded, on the night of September nth, in bringing twenty- 
eight guns to the brow of the heights overlooking the plain of 
Vienna ; and these were all that Sobieski could count on for the 
assault of an army in position, that by this time amounted to 
nearly 200,000 men. The march had been most tortuous and 
difficult; the defiles were steep, crooked and narrow, and, had 
the grand vizier possessed the first elements of military science, 
he would have seized the passes, where a few hundred deter- 
mined men could have beaten back thousands ; but, in stupid 
over-confidence, he allowed them to come on, and, at dawn on 
the morning of the 12th of September, the army of Sobieski, 
then 70,000 strong, swept down upon him. 




GEEMAN LANDSKNECHTS. 
(16th CENTURY.) 



MAJOB AND LIEUTENANT OF GEEMAN LANDS- 
KNECHTS. 




GEBMAN DEUMMEE AND COLOE BEAEER. 
(16TH CENTUEY.) 

HISTOEIC WAR DEESS 



HUSSAE AND INEANTEYMAN. 



SOBIESKI TO THE RESCUE. 283 

They had reached the crest of the Calemberg on the previous 
evening, and signalled their coming to the well-nigh exhausted 
defenders. Then, without delay, the general-in-chief set about 
the disposition for the morrow. To his own, the Polish army, 
was assigned the extreme right of the line, under the command 
of General Sublonowski. The troops of Bavaria and Saxony 
were posted on the left wing, under their own princes. The 
Austrians, under the Duke of Lorraine, occupied the centre ; 
while a fourth corps, under the Prince of Waldeck, was ex- 
tended well over to the left, to feel its way along the Danube 
and hasten into the city if the besiegers were driven back. Each 
division was formed in four lines, the reserves being massed be- 
hind the centre of each, and forming the fourth line. A redis- 
tribution of the guns was made, and they, with the infantry, were 
placed in the front line of the entire army. The cavalry were 
placed in the second line, with orders to move forward and 
occupy the intervals between the infantry brigades as soon as 
they got well down upon the plain. 

Sobieski, from the heights of the Calemberg, had carefully 
reconnoitered the position of the Turks. " That vizier is an 
ignorant fellow," said he ; " we shall beat him." 

Two hours before dawn he and some of his principal officers 
attended religious services and partook of the holy sacrament. 
Then, at the first break of day, rolling their guns by hand before 
them, the allied troops slowly, steadily advanced. Almost at 
the same instant one-half the Turkish army began a vigorous 
assault on the walls of Vienna, the other half marched forward 
to meet Sobieski. 

Close under the heights the ground was cut up into vineyards, 
ravines and ridges. The cavalry of the Turks, which had ad- 
vanced with great spirit, were met by fierce discharges from the 
guns which they strove in vain to reach, and at length, thrown 
into confusion by the rapid fire and the broken nature of the 
ground, they broke and galloped back in much disorder. While 
they were being rallied, some of the Turkish generals led for- 
ward the infantry to the foot-hills, and then began to breast the 
heights against the slowly descending allies. All at once the 



284 VIENNA. 

guns of Sobieski ceased their thunder, and with one accord the 
bristling lines of infantry marched out beyond them ; then, with 
mighty shout, pikemen and musketeers came charging down the 
slopes at the irregular masses of the Turks. It was a dashing 
and impetuous assault: the Moslems could make no stand what- 
ever against it. Back they went, through the ravines and vine- 
yards, closely pressed by the cheering allies, and at last they 
were forced fairly and squarely out upon the open plain. Here 
Sobieski and his generals halted their men, rapidly aligned the 
battalions, opened well out to the right and left; while, in prompt 
obedience to their instructions, the glittering regiments of the 
cavalry came trotting down in their tracks, and rapidly ranging 
up into line in the intervals between the brigades. At the same 
time willing hands were at work on the guns, and by noon they 
were once again in position in front of the line of battle, ready 
to reopen their thunder. Thus far everything had gone admira- 
bly with the allies. Now they were to fight upon the level, and 
here the wild Turkish horsemen would have a better chance to 
show their mettle. 

Meantime things had gone badly with Kara Mustapha. The 
grand assault on the walls had been repulsed with heavy loss. 
The besieged, animated by the sight of their coming comrades, 
fought with great valor and determination. Then he was dis- 
mayed by the ease with which his troops had been whipped back 
from the heights by the German infantry, and now, thoroughly 
alarmed, as he marked the gallant and spirited bearing of the 
Polish lancers as they rode up into line, their bright banneroles 
waving and flashing in the sunlight, he hastily sent orders to 
concentrate the entire army on the plain to face the allies, and, 
in much excitement, strove to establish his lines in effective 
order. The Pasha of Diarbeker was assigned to command his 
right wing; the Pasha of Buda the left. The vizier himself was 
in rear of the centre with the generals of the Janissaries and 
Spahis to assist and advise him. All the time his infidel hordes 
were keeping up a deafening chorus of shouts and yells. They 
distrusted their leader; had no respect for his ability, and, al- 
though in overwhelming force, were nervous and uneasy about 



THE TURKS UTTERLY DEEEATED 285 

the safety of their camps in rear, where many of them had left 
the women and children of their families. And now the vizier 
committed an act of savage cruelty and vengeance. He had a 
large number of prisoners of all ages and conditions ; some his- 
torians put the number at 30,000. He ordered his Tartars to 
put them all to death, and the inhuman mandate was as brutally 
carried out. 

On the side of the allies all was disciplined silence. In per- 
fect composure the lines were accurately dressed ; the army en- 
joyed a brief resting spell ; then at length Sobieski, sabre in 
hand, rode out to the front of the centre and gave the signal. 
Sudden as the flash of their own guns six splendid regiments of 
Polish cavalry leaped forward to the charge, and with bared 
sabres and quivering lances bore down on the very centre of the 
Turkish position. In vain footman, Janissary and Spahi braced 
themselves for the shock and struggled to hold their ground 
against them ; these northern horsemen rode through or over 
everything and everybody, and, never drawing rein, overturned 
the very squadrons that surrounded and guarded the vizier him- 
self. The Spahis rallied and fought bravely, but the vizier turned 
his back and fled for safety, followed by his great retinue of at- 
tendants and courtiers. The Janissaries then fought without 
their usual spirit. The Tartars broke and ran for the camp in 
search of such booty as they could lay hands on. In front of 
the camp the vizier once more attempted to rally and form his 
lines, but by this time the entire army of Sobieski was charging 
home upon them and the soldiers would rally for nobody, much 
less for a man who had set the example of luxury and effeminacy 
in camp, and cowardice in battle. By three o'clock in the after- 
noon the whole Mussulman army, abandoning its vast encamp- 
ment, was in disorderly flight eastward down the valley of the 
Danube, pursued and sabred by the Polish cavalry. The siege 
of Vienna was raised in good earnest. 

That night the army of Sobieski, advancing in disciplined 
order, bivouacked on the plain around the abandoned camp, while 
eager greetings passed between their officers and those of the 
brave defenders of the city. Vienna could not have held out 
another day, and knew it well. 



286 VIENNA. 

Early on the 1 3th of September the rich camp of the Orientals 
was thrown open to the plunder of the soldiery. A horrible 
sight met their view in the vast number of dead, slain by order 
of the vizier on the previous day, and the corpses of Turkish 
women and children, butchered by husbands and fathers because 
they could neither take them with them in their flight, nor could 
they bear to leave them to the possible ill treatment of the con- 
querors. The amount of money and valuables left behind by 
Kara Mustapha in his panicky flight is simply incalculable. 
The Germans and Poles were made rich. King John Sobieski 
wrote to his wife : " The grand vizier has made me his heir, 
and I have found in his tents to the value of many millions of 
ducats." 

And so, with very little loss of life among his army, Sobieski 
of Poland had saved the Empire of Austria. It was a crowning 
and decisive victory. The losses of the Turks were so great 
in life, treasure and military property that the lesson proved 
most salutary. They fell back to their own provinces in the 
East, and henceforth abandoned all attempts upon the Christian 
capitals and strongholds up the Danube. 

Had Vienna been taken by the Turks it would perhaps have 
been held as Constantinople has been held. Its churches would 
have become pagan mosques, and the followers of Islam would 
have occupied the heart of a populous and wealthy country. 
Powerless to help himself, the emperor had called in Sobieski. 
Him the people of Vienna welcomed and honored as they would 
a deliverer from Heaven. Entering the city he was overwhelmed 
with their acclamations/praises and gratitude. He could barely 
force his horse along the streets. He was their deliverer — their 
hero. They forgot their own monarch who had abandoned 
them. They saw only Sobieski. Gallant Staremberg came to 
hail him as their preserver. The soldiers called him leader and 
liberator. He was the central figure of popular acclaim and 
enthusiasm. Poland had saved Austria. The first part of the 
old fable of the lion and the mouse had been enacted. 

But there it ended. Once safe and restored to his capital, a 
haughty nod was the sole reward the emperor vouchsafed the 



INGRATITUDE OF AUSTRIA. 



287 



king, and, when dissension and strife over its elective monarchy 
arose in Poland soon after, three powerful and jealous neighbors 
took advantage of the snarl to pounce upon and divide up the 
little kingdom amongst them, and Austria, who owed her life to 
Poland, was the most rapacious and cruel of her plunderers. 
Poland, stifled and strangled by the hand she raised from the 
dust, is no longer a nation. 




Bishop Kolohitsch. Count Scaiemberg. Sobieski. Elector of Saxony. Elector of Bavaria. 
" THE GALLANT STAREMBERG CAME TO HAIL HIM AS THEIR PRESERVER." 



NARVA. 




1700. 

NDER Gustavus Adolphus, Sweden had be- 
come renowned as the most scientific fight- 
ing nation in Europe. The skill, discipline 
and valor of the Swedish troops were uni- 
versally admitted to be superior to anything 
yet developed in Christendom. The de- 
scendants of Gustavus Vasa bade fair to 
increase the limits and power of the king- 
dom, but when he died at Liitzen, the greater 
Gustavus left no son to take his throne. His daughter, prevail- 
ing upon the states of Sweden to elect her cousin, son of the 
Count Palatine, in her place, abdicated and went to live in Rome. 
Charles Gustavus X. proved a soldierly and ambitious ruler, but 
he too died young ; his son Charles XL, a warrior like his pre- 
decessors, then came to the throne, married the daughter of the 
King of Denmark, and of this marriage there was born on the 
morning of June 17, 1682, the most extraordinary ruler yet ac- 
credited to Sweden^ and one of the most brilliant, distinguished 
and extraordinary men the world ever saw. This was the soldier 
Charles XII. 

The death of his parents, when he was a mere boy, left him 
for a time in the hands of guardians, but, when only fifteen years 
of age, the young prince demanded and received recognition as 
King of Sweden. Like the great Gustavus, he was an earnest 
student of history and of military works ; a fine linguist and a 
fair scholar in other branches ; but for all manner of bodily and 
athletic exercises he early manifested the strongest liking. He 
was an accomplished horseman before his tenth year, and had 
learned all the drill of the soldier. The hero of his boyish ad- 
(288) 



CHARLES XII. CROWNED. 289 

miration was Alexander the Great, whose career his own was 
to so strongly resemble. 

Charles XII. was crowned King of Sweden on the 24th of 
December, 1697, being then sixteen years old. His kingdom 
embraced much that is now Russian territory east of the Baltic, 
and the most valuable portion of Pomerania and the duchies of 
Bremen and Verden. His army and navy, thanks to the care 
and wisdom of his father, were both in great discipline and effi- 
ciency, while the treasury of Sweden was far richer than it ever 
had been. With everything in his favor, therefore, Charles began 
his reign, but it would have been better for him and for Sweden 
could he have remained three years longer at his studies. 

The moment he became ruler of Sweden and master of his own 
movements, King Charles threw aside books and maps and gave 
himself up to a life of exciting field-sports, and for nearly two 
years his time was spent in bear and boar hunting. He rarely 
appeared at the councils of his ministers, and when he did, it was 
only to sit cross-legged on the table, scowling at one after an- 
other as they spoke of matters of national importance which he 
did not understand. The ambassadors of foreign nations in 
their private letters reported him to be a man of mean capacity, 
and this opinion of him soon spread throughout Sweden. At 
this time he was fond of dress and high living, but for women he 
cared nothing at all. The one prominent characteristic which 
ought to have given his advisers an inkling of the strength of 
character that lay under this mask of laziness and indifference, 
seemed to have been almost unnoticed. His promise, his word, 
was better than a bond. From first to last Charles the Twelfth 
was the soul of integrity ; and a liar, a cheat or a swindler he 
hated from his inmost soul. 

Against this indolent young monarch, dreamily secure in his 
kingdom under the terms of the peace of Ryswick, three pow- 
erful neighbors combined in secret. First was his own cousin, 
Frederick IV., King of Denmark ; the second was Augustus, 
King of Poland; the third, and by long odds the most powerful 
and dangerous, was Peter the Great, Tsar of Russia, then known 
as Muscovy. 



290 NARVA. 

The enmity of the first grew out of the hatred always existing 
between the Danes and Swedes, and a family quarrel springing 
from the indignities heaped by King Frederick upon the Duke 
of Holstein, brother-in-law to Charles of Sweden. The jealousy 
of the second, King Augustus of Poland (whose court was 
eclipsed in splendor only by that of Louis XIV. of France), was 
excited by the growing power and importance of Sweden, and 
was readily fanned into insidious hatred by the renegade Patkul, 
who had escaped a death sentence by flight, and was now taking 
refuge at the Polish court and doing all in his power to incite the 
king to war against the country from which he was exiled. The 
ready co-operation of the third, the great ruler of Russia, was 
easily secured. He was building up a noble empire of his own, 
had extended his dominions to the Sea of Azof on the southeast 
by victories over the Turks, and now he needed the lands on the 
shores of the Baltic which, though occupied by the very people 
who were closely allied by blood to his subjects, were held by 
Sweden. These three monarchs secretly formed their combina- 
tion to ruin Charles XII. and rob his kingdom of all its posses- 
sions east and south of the Baltic. 

The news reached the capital at Stockholm none too soon, and 
great was the consternation. There was not, at that moment, a 
general of any note or experience in the Swedish army, and the 
ministers were dismayed. The king was off boar-hunting when 
the tidings came to him that the Saxons (Augustus of Poland 
was also Elector of Saxony) had invaded his province of Livonia. 
Instantly he hurried to Stockholm, summoned his council, and 
arose before them to speak. They listened with amazement that 
rapidly gave way to respect. They saw in their king a new man, 
young, but strong and resolute. 

" Gentlemen," said he, " I am resolved never to begin an un- 
just war, nor ever to finish a just one but by the destruction of 
my enemies. My resolution is fixed. I will attack the first that 
declares against me ; and after having conquered him, I hope I 
shall be able to strike terror into the rest." 

From that moment the whole character of the king seemed 
changed. He was now just eighteen years old. He abandoned 



DENMARK HUMBLED. 291 

once and for all the garb of the court, and appeared in the rough 
service dress of the army, a dress that was his invariable cos- 
tume from that time forth to his dying day. The long-skirted, 
single-breasted, snug-fitting frock-coat of coarse dark blue cloth, 
with rolling collar and copper buttons: not a star, not an 
"order," not an ornament upon breast or shoulder; huge jack- 
boots coming way above the knee, and gauntlets reaching 
almost to the elbow. These were now the features of the royal 
toilet. He had been fond of the pleasures of the table. Now he 
banished wine from his board and became an advocate of total 
abstinence, while his daily bread was ordered of the simplest, 
coarsest character. What was good enough for his soldiers was 
good enough for him. His constitution was robust, his frame 
tall, well-knit and hardened : he was in admirable physical trim 
for a sharp campaign, and with the histories of Alexander and 
Caesar fresh in his memory, he placed himself at the head of his 
troops and launched out on his career as a soldier— a career that 
proved the wildest, strangest, most romantic and adventurous, 
perhaps the maddest, of any monarch ever known. 

On the 8th of May, 1700, Charles XII. left his capital, Stock- 
holm, to take the field. He never saw it again. In a few days 
more, leaping into the surf in his impatience, sword in hand, the 
young king landed on Danish soil and led his men against Co- 
penhagen. " What noise is that ? " he asked of Major Stuart, 
who was at his side. " It is the whistling of the enemy's bullets, 
Sire," was the answer. " Good ! " said Charles ; " henceforth that 
shall be my music," and so it proved. In less than six weeks he 
had wrested a treaty of peace. The King of Denmark had been 
pounced upon and humbled before his allies could come to his 

aid. 

And now the King of Poland with a formidable army was 
assailing Riga, capital of Livonia; and the Tsar of Muscovy, with 
100,000 men, was marching westward to join his confederates. 
Riga was superbly defended by an old Swedish general, Count 
D'Alberg, and Augustus could accomplish nothing there, while 
the King of Sweden was left free to turn his entire attention to 
the coming host of Peter the Great. 



292 NARVA. 

On the first of October, 1700, the Muscovite army halted 
before Narva. This little town had been founded by Waldemar 
in the thirteenth century, and though lying only ninety-five 
miles west-southwest of St. Petersburg, was still a Swedish port, 
ten miles inland from the gulf. It was in bitter cold wintry 
weather, but both Sweden and Russia were accustomed to war at 
such seasons, and, despite the extreme inclemency of the weather, 
their movements went on. 

Bitterly as the young King of Sweden felt against his kins- 
man, Frederick of Denmark, and exasperated as he was against 
Augustus of Poland, he regarded both as too small game for 
his arms ; more than that, he was doubly incensed against the 
Tsar of Russia, for at the very moment when this monarch was 
plotting against him, with the Kings of Poland and Denmark, 
three ambassadors from St. Petersburg were still at Stockholm, 
" who had lately sworn to the renewal of an inviolable peace." 
Charles XII. was a man of his word, and duplicity aroused his 
intense ire. He absolutely passed by Augustus and his armies, 
after his phenomenal invasion and humiliation of Denmark. He 
was all eagerness to meet this renowned ruler of Russia, no 
matter how many men he might have, and teach him a lesson — 
and he did it. Unfortunately for himself and for Sweden, he did it 
with such ease that from that time forth he had no just concep- 
tion of the power and resources of his rival, and the startling 
victory he won at Narva was the absolute introduction to his 
subsequent reverses. 

Peter the Great, who had learned shipbuilding in Holland and 
England as an apprentice, who had fathered all the arts of peace 
introduced in Russia at this time, and who had enjoyed but lit- 
tle opportunity of studying the arts of war, now found himself in 
the field with a large army of untrained, but most docile and 
obedient Russian soldiers. Placing a German officer, the Duke 
de Croi, in chief command, he himself served with the rank of 
lieutenant, saying that he wished to learn that profession as he 
had his trade, practically. Nevertheless he had learned in his 
travels far more than his nobles knew, and it was he who super- 
intended the laying out of the camp around Narva, the digging 



PREPARATIONS OF PETER. 293 

of the trenches, and the establishment of field fortifications to 
defend them from assault from without, which he felt sure would 
soon come. None of the Russian officers had any practical 
knowledge of the art of war as now practiced in western Europe. 
The only instructed regiments were those commanded by Ger- 
man officers, who had been bought into the service by Peter the 
Great. The rest of the vast army, according to Voltaire, were 
"barbarians, forced from their forests, and covered with the 
skins of wild beasts ; some armed with arrows, and others with 
clubs. Few of them had fusees ; none of them had ever seen a 
regular siege ; and there was not one good cannoneer in the en- 
tire army." 

Peter the Great is said to have had one hundred and fifty guns 
in the trenches against Narva and never to have made a breach; 
while from the rude and hastily improvised fortifications of the 
little city there came such an accurate and death-dealing fire 
from the guns, that whole ranks were mowed down. Baron de 
Hoorn, the commandant of Narva, had not one thousand Swed- 
ish regulars ; yet the Russians hammered away at him for ten 
weeks and never gained a point. 

On November 5th the tsar learned that the King of Sweden 
had sailed across the Baltic with two hundred transports ; had 
landed, and, with less than twenty thousand men, was marching 
to the relief of Narva. Peter had then eighty thousand in the 
trenches ; but he knew the relative merits of the two armies; he 
knew that only by an overwhelming force could he hope to beat 
such troops as those of Sweden, and he ordered that another 
corps of 30,000 men, then at Pleskow, should come to him with 
all haste. Then he did a thing that in any one but Peter the 
Great might have been misunderstood. He left his army in 
charge of de Croi, and he himself went to hasten the march of 
the 30,000, hoping to surround and hem in the King of Sweden. 

The latter had landed at Pernau, on the Gulf of Riga, and, 
with 4,000 horse and only 4,000 infantry — all who could keep 
up with him — he had made a rapid march to Revel. In order 
to meet and check him, the Russian commander resorted to the 
following odd disposition of his force : The main body remained 



294 NARVA. 

in the trenches besieging Narva ; but some 30,000 troops were 
planted across the Revel road, about three miles west of Narva. 
A mile farther to the west 20,000 were posted across the path ; 
and still farther out, towards the coming Swedes, was an ad- 
vanced guard of 5,000 men. 

It was with only 8,000 soldiers that Charles XII. suddenly 
appeared before this outpost. He attacked without an instant's 
delay, and with such force and impetuosity, that the Russians 
ran in terror and confusion. They came flocking down the road 
and across the fields toward the second line in such dismay and 
disorder, that the officers of the 20,000 post were certain that an 
overpowering force of Swedes must be at their backs, and gave 
the order to retire. Orderly at first, this retreat speedily became 
a mad rush for the rear. Twenty-five thousand men ran like 
sheep before eight thousand, and by far the greater number had 
not even seen the pursuers. Not until safe within their intrench- 
ments did the Russians halt, and at last, having overthrown line 
after line, post after post, the Swedish army drew up, breathless 
and tired out, in front of an enemy ten times its strength. 

The situation was enough to " demoralize " an old soldier, 
but it seemed only to inspire this young warrior. " My eight 
thousand Swedes," said he, " can drive a hundred thousand Rus- 
sians," and, never heeding the " croaking " of one or two of his 
generals, Charles ordered the instant attack of the Russians. It 
was perhaps the best thing to be done under the circumstances. 
They had not had time to discover his numerical weakness ; they 
were all in confusion and disorder. He could gain little or noth- 
ing by delay ; they could gain everything. " With the aid of 
God," was his watchword, as just at noon on the 30th of No- 
vember, 1700, Charles of Sweden dared to attack an army in 
position, intrenched and having one hundred and fifty cannon, 
when he had but that handful — eight thousand men. 

For a few moments his light guns blazed away at the Rus- 
sian intrenchments ; then, with a blinding snow-storm at their 
backs and greatly aiding them, by concealing their lack of sup- 
ports, with fixed bayonets the Swedish infantry rushed in, 
Charles himself leading and directing the attack against the 



FIERY IMPETUOSITY OF CHARLES. 295 

right of the Muscovite line, where he hoped to find his enemy, 
the tsar, and measure swords with him. But Peter was far away 
from the field, and all ignorant of the lesson his troops were 
learning at such cost. Early in the attack a spent bullet struck 
the King of Sweden, but lodged in the folds of his heavy black 
neck-cloth and did no harm. Then his horse fell dead under 
him ; he leaped upon another, saying, laughingly, " These fellows 
make me go through my exercise," then, with drawn sword, 
dashed in to the extreme front. For half an hour, perhaps, the 
Russians stood firm against this first attack, then broke and ran 
back in confusion upon their reserves, and it was found impossi- 
ble to rally them. For two hours longer the lines were de- 
fended against the Swedes, but the king rode to and fro urging 
his men with such fiery impetuosity, that they were nerved to 
unusual exertions, and at last, seeing conclusive indications that 
the Russians were breaking, he led forward his slender but dis- 
ciplined line in gallant assault, and in another moment the 
Swedish infantry were swarming over the works. Then Charles 
placed himself at the head of his horsemen and rode in, charging 
the reserves, sabring the fugitives. This proved too much for 
the Russian right ; it broke in utter consternation and fled for 
the bridge crossing the river Narva, closely pursued by the 
dragoons. The bridge broke under its weight of crowding 
fugitives and let them down into the stream, where many were 
drowned ; but a large number, cut off from escape, took refuge 
among the nearest buildings, and, under direction of their offi- 
cers, strove to resume the defensive ; but the king's dragoons 
were among them in an instant; three prominent generals, Dol- 
gorouky, Goloffkin and Federowitz, finding themselves sur- 
rounded and cut off, and learning that the king himself was 
heading their assailants, asked to be led before him, and there 
laid their swords at his feet. No sooner was this done than 
Duke de Croi, believing the Swedes to be in great force, and 
finding that his undisciplined soldiers would stand no longer, 
came forward and surrendered, causing 30,000 men to lay down 
their arms. 

These distinguished officers in their humiliation and defeat 



296 NARVA. 

expected to be treated with harshness by the Swedish king. 
On the contrary, he received them with quiet courtesy, directed 
his officers to entertain them as guests, gave immediate orders 
that the subalterns and the rank and file should be shipped 
across the Narva and set free. In this way he had managed, by 
nightfall, to rid himself of some 40,000 enemies. 

During this eventful day of November 30th, therefore, the 
young King of Sweden had terribly beaten an army in position, 
and had sustained a loss of only six hundred men ; while in the 
defence of their trenches the Muscovites had lost eight thousand. 
Many more had been drowned in attempting to escape over the 
bridge of the Narva; but there was still, standing at bay, a force 
of 30,000 men under General Wade, and, if they only knew 
it, it was in their power to annihilate the little army of Sweden. 
But King Charles rapidly gathered in the abandoned artillery 
in the trenches, and strengthened the position he had taken 
between the camp and the city; then calmly lay down on the 
ground for a few hours sleep, intending at daybreak to fall upon 
Wade and complete his work ; but, at two o'clock in the morn- 
ing, there came a messenger from that general. He had heard 
of the courtesy and kindness with which his brother-officers had 
been treated ; he saw no hope of holding out until the tsar could 
come to his relief, and he begged for himself the same terms 
that had been accorded his comrades-in-arms. Awakened from 
his sleep the king received the message. "Tell him," said he, 
" to march forward at dawn and cause his command to lay down 
their arms and colors, and I will listen to him." Then he re- 
sumed his nap. But at daybreak he and his men were in readi- 
ness, and, in the bitter wintry morning of December 1st, thirty 
thousand Russian soldiers, officers and men, bareheaded, as they 
conceived to be their proper mien, and with humiliation mingled 
with gratitude, laid down their arms, their flags, their swords 
before the body-guards of the King of Sweden. The subalterns 
and men were instantly marched off across the Narva, leaving 
their officers and leaders behind, and in this extraordinary man- 
ner had Charles XII. defeated, disarmed and dismayed an army 
that could have swept him out of existence had it realized its 
power. 



CHARLES' GREATEST TRIUMPH. 



297 



Narva was a glory to Sweden. The people went wild over 
the wonderful achievement of their young king and their brave 
army. They naturally supposed that such a victory was only a 
prelude to conquests more glorious ; but the real results of 
Narva were the very opposite. To Russia it was a blessing in 
disguise. The great tsar quickly saw that he must learn, then 
teach his people, the art of war ; and he lost not a moment. As 
for Charles XII., this, his greatest triumph, was his worst defeat. 
It undermined his judgment and made his subsequent career 
simply madness. Let us follow him to Pultowa. 




CHARLES XII. RELIEVING NARVA. 




PULTOWA. 

1709. 

LL Europe was amazed at the victory of Charles XII. 
at Narva. The man who took the most practical 
and philosophical view of the matter was Peter 
the Great. " These Swedes," said he, " will teach 
us to fight," and, wisely determining to avoid 
meeting his confident young adversary in the 
field, until his army was in condition to make its 
numbers felt, the Tsar of Russia busied himself 
in reorganizing and instructing his land forces. For this pur- 
pose he induced many German officers to come to Russia as 
instructors and drill-masters. He entered into a new league 
with the King of Poland, by the terms of which it was agreed 
that 50,000 Saxon and German soldiers should be sent to 
Russia to serve in the pay of the tsar, while 50,000 Muscovites 
were to be drafted into the Polish army to learn there the art of 
war. The King of Sweden lost no time in breaking up this 
arrangement, which, had it been carried out, would have been 
fatal to his interests ; but he could not interfere with the system 
of instruction and improvement that was at once begun through- 
out the Russian army. 

Particular attention was paid to the artillery and cavalry. 
Churches were required to give up their bells to furnish the 
necessary gun-metal, foundries were built, and guns of excel- 
lent model and workmanship were speedily turned out. Peter 
organized regiments of dragoons, soldiers taught to fight either 
mounted or afoot, and his hardy peasantry, with their little Cos- 
sack horses, made capital material for this particular branch of 
(298) 



TIRELESS ENERGY OF PETER. 299 

the cavalry arm. He established the Russian hussars, modeled 
after those of Poland, the most dashing and brilliant light cav- 
alry of Europe, superbly mounted and equipped; and his infan- 
try were now constantly schooled in the manoeuvres and tactics 
of the German armies. From the day of Narva, Peter the 
Great was bending all his energies to the task of putting a stop 
to the victorious career of Charles XII. 

The latter had now launched out upon a campaign of con- 
quest, that had for its first object the dethronement of Augustus, 
King of Poland. He appeared before Riga in the early spring, 
crossed the Duna in the face of the Saxon army, whom he de- 
feated in a spirited battle, drove them before him through Lithu- 
ania, where town after town surrendered as he came, and 
marched triumphantly into Birsen, where Peter and Augustus 
had made their last league only a few months before. The 
King of Poland summoned his nobles to meet at Warsaw and 
decide the future policy of the kingdom ; and so great was 
the awe inspired by the victories of Charles that they refused the 
king the support he needed, compelled him to abandon his 
league with Russia, and broke up in disorder in February, 1 702, 
leaving matters in a worse state than they were before. 

Then, in his desperation, Augustus resorted to another ex- 
pedient. Augusta von Konigsmark, reputed to be the most 
beautiful and brilliant woman in Europe, was his mistress ; and 
such was his confidence, and her own, in her powers of fascina- 
tion, that it was determined between them that she should go to 
Lithuania, and see what feminine wiles could accomplish with 
the conqueror. She went — and returned discomfited. The 
young king refused to look at or speak to her ; and the next 
news received of him was, that he was marching on Warsaw, 
which he entered May 5th, 1702 ; and Augustus, finding himself 
forced to fight for his kingdom, rallied his Saxon troops and 
met the army of Sweden at Clissau, on the 13th of July. He 
had 24,000 ; Charles had only half that number ; but again the 
latter carried all before him, completely overthrew the Saxons, 
and pursued Augustus to Cracow. That winter he was master 
of all Poland; and, on the 12th of July, 1703, the king was de- 



;j(X) PULTOWA. 

throned and young Stanislaus Leczinsky chosen in his stead. 
Augustus managed to raise an army and give some further 
trouble ; but the King of Sweden pursued and fought the Saxons 
with relentless vigor. Stanislaus was duly crowned in October, 
1705, but meantime Peter the Great had marched upon and cap- 
tured Narva, and Charles XII., who was having everything his 
own way in Poland, found that Russia was robbing him of his 
provinces east of the Baltic. Determined to complete the ruin 
of Augustus, however, he let Narva go and pushed on, and, to 
the consternation of all Germany, now invaded Saxony. It was 
then that he committed his blackest deed of cruelty, and a viola- 
tion of the laws of nations, that has forever sullied his fair fame. 
Augustus yielded up to him the person of John Reinold Patkul, 
the ambassador of Russia, but formerly a Swedish subject, who 
had been accused of high treason, and the unfortunate man was 
condemned by Charles to a terrible death, that of being broken 
on the wheel. All Europe shuddered at the merciless revenge 
of the Swedish king, and, had not England, Holland and Ger- 
many been at that moment engaged in a fierce war with France > 
it is probable that the loud complaints of the tsar against 
Charles would have brought down rebuke, if not punishment, 
on his head. But Sweden was winning new victories all the 
time, and the western powers had too much trouble of their own 
to care to become entangled with so vehement and vigorous a 
fighter as the young Norseland king Indeed, it was at this 
very time that England sent her most accomplished general, 
courtier and diplomat, John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough,! 
with instructions to visit Charles XII. at his camp at Altranstad, 
and secure for Queen Anne the assurance that Sweden would 
not take up the cause of France. Charles had already given his 
word, in 1700, that he would not interfere in the quarrel be- 
tween Louis XIV. and the allies; but Marlborough was incapa^ 
ble of understanding that any man, much less a monarch, could 
or should abide by a promise when it led to a sacrifice of his 
own power or interest. He went back to England in complete 
confidence that he had found a man who meant what he said, 
and with the conviction that so far from interfering in the affairs 




KNIGHT AND LADY. (15TH CENTUBY.) 



S0LDIEK9. (1630-1650.) 




SOLDIEBS IN THE 30 YEABS WAE. BUEGUNDIANS. (1470.) 

HISTORIC WAR DRESS, 



CHARLES DREAMS OF UNIVERSAL CONQUEST. 301 

of Western Europe, the end and aim of Charles' ambition was 
now the dethronement of Peter the Great. 

And so it was. The unbroken series of victories that had 
attended him caused the King of Sweden to believe that within 
a year he could conquer Russia, and then return and become 
the arbiter of European affairs. So confident was he that he 
was predestined to be a second Alexander the Great, that at this 
period he sent officers into Asia and Egypt on secret expedi- 
tions to examine into the condition of the armies and fortifica- 
tions. He was dreaming of the conquest of the world. 

And now, in September, 1707, with a veteran army of 43,000 
men, every regiment filled to its maximum, Charles XII. 
marched eastward from Saxony, bent on the overthrow of Peter 
the Great. In Poland, Count Loewenhaupt was awaiting him 
with 20,000 more men, and in Finland there were 15,000 subject 
to his call. He had not a doubt of victory. 

But his advance was slow. It was mid-winter when he 
crossed the Niemen, and not until June, 1708, did he reach the 
Beresina, and not one action of importance had occurred. Now, 
however, came the battle of Holofzin. Twenty thousand Mus- 
covites were intrenched behind a morass and a rapid river; 
Charles waded through the stream with the water up to his neck, 
and leading alternately his cavalry and infantry, attacked them 
in their chosen position and whipped them out of it — a gallant 
and desperate fight — and it seemed as though nothing could 
withstand him. By this time the tsar had given up all idea of 
defending his frontiers, and was rapidly retiring towards Mos- 
cow. On September 22d the Swedes again won a spirited com- 
bat at Smolensko, on the Dnieper ; and now Moscow lay only 
two hundred miles away. 

By this time his army was short of supplies, and his generals 
ventured to urge the king to wait for Loewenhaupt, who, with 
20,000 men and abundant provisions and ammunition, was has- 
tening after him. But Charles seemed incapable of realizing the 
possibility of defeat or danger. He not only rejected all coun- 
sel but, to the utter consternation of his army, now turned south- 
ward, abandoning the high road to Moscow, and marching into 



302 PULTOWA. 

the heart of the wild, inhospitable and uncultivated regions 
known as the Ukraine, whither he was led by the persuasions of 
that Mazeppa, then Prince of the Cossacks, whose wonderful ex- 
periences as a young man have formed the theme of so much 
romance. Mazeppa promised to join Charles with 30,000 men 
and aid him in the conquest of Russia, and they were to meet 
on the river Desna. But now the once hardy Swedish soldiers 
were dying by scores from cold and hunger, the horses of the 
artillery dropped exhausted in their tracks, and dozens of guns 
had to be abandoned ; the army lost its way in the dense marshy 
forests, and a march that should have occupied only four days 
was strung out to twelve. They were at the very point of 
starvation when they arrived at the rendezvous on the Desna, 
and found Mazeppa had failed them. Now misfortunes crowded 
upon them thick and fast. Loewenhaupt, with his priceless con- 
voy of wagons, was surrounded and cut off by the tsar himself 
with an overwhelming force. He managed to cut his way 
through with 5,000 men, and eventually to join his king, but 
everything else was lost, and the emaciated army of Sweden was 
now in a terrible plight. But the courage and obstinacy of the 
king seemed indomitable. He marched on, even though it was 
December, and on one day 2,000 soldiers, it is said, " fell dead 
with cold before his eyes." 

At the earliest break of spring, with but the skeleton of his 
once powerful army, with a mere 18,000 ragged and famishing 
men, the mad young monarch resumed his eastward march, and, 
towards the end of May, arrived before the walls of Pultowa, a lit- 
tle city on the river Vorskla, at the eastern end of the Ukraine. A 
large magazine and supply depot had here been established by the 
tsar, and could Charles succeed in taking it, not only would he 
be able to equip and feed his men, but the way to Moscow would 
be open. With blind infatuation he resolved upon the attempt 
though the garrison was 5,000 strong. Prince Menzikoff, with 
a formidable body of Cossack cavalry, was hovering about his 
flanks, and Peter the Great with a large army was hastening to 
the rescue. The lucky star of Sweden was setting in fire and 
blood. 



DISPARITY OF THE RIVAL FORCES. 393 

On May 27th the tsar with 70,000 men was only a few miles 
away. Charles rode forward to reconnoitre them; his escort 
had a sharp skirmish with their advance, and as he was retiring 
towards camp a carbine bullet struck him in the heel, shattering 
the bone. For six hours he continued in the saddle giving no 
sign of his painful injury, until an aide noticed the blood drip- 
ping from his boot. Then the surgeons were summoned, and 
the knife had to be employed in dressing and cleansing the 
ghastly wound ; but he bore the severe operation with marvellous 
calm, he himself holding the injured leg, and, while the surgeons 
worked, giving his instructions for the assault on the morrow. 
It was the evening of July 7th, and the tidings that the tsar's 
entire army was advancing upon him determined him to meet 
him in battle at daybreak. 

And now, early on the morning of the 8th of July, the two 
rival monarchs confronted each other. Charles of Sweden, 
with his record of nine years of unbroken victory, was unable 
to mount his horse ; his men were weak and dispirited ; all were 
weighted down by the consciousness of their isolation hundreds 
of miles from home, surrounded, cut off, hemmed in by merciless 
foes — all were depressed but their indomitable king. Carried in 
a litter he made his appearance at their head, determined to lead 
them to the attack. 

With four iron field-pieces, 16,000 regulars, and perhaps 5,000 
local allies, the King of Sweden marched from his camp south 
of Pultowa against that of the tsar, who had crossed the river 
three miles west of the town and strongly intrenched his camp. 
The river here runs nearly eastward and sweeps along under 
the northern walls of the town. The Swedish army deployed 
facing north at earliest dawn, and was promptly met by the great 
array of Muscovy. Far over to the southeast, where the baggage, 
the unhorsed artillery and the scant supplies of Sweden were 
parked under a strong guard, anxious eyes watched the doubtful 
issues of the day. 

All had not been harmony among the generals of Sweden. 
Renschild, the field-marshal, who was the most skillful and ac- 
complished soldier serving under Charles, cordially disliked 



304 PULTOWA. 

Count Piper, the king's minister and confidant, and no love was 
lost between him and Loewenhaupt. The old unanimity was 
gone. Yet in the desperate strait in which they found themselves, 
all the generals strove to encourage and animate the younger of- 
ficers and the rank and file by recalling in spirited speeches the 
easy victory of Narva, and the king himself, borne in his litter 
at the extreme front, spoke cheeringly and confidently to all. 

Just at half-past four in the morning the Swedish cavalry un- 
der Slipenbak came in sight of the squadrons of Russian dragoons 
drawn up to the west of the main camp. Strong redoubts, lined 
with field-guns, were already thrown up along their front, and 
with every moment the intrenchments grew stronger. There 
was not a moment to lose. The king gave the signal, " Charge 
and strike hard," and, with all their old fire and enthusiasm, the 
cuirassiers of Sweden thundered across the plain and dashed 
pell-mell among the Muscovites. In the vigor and fury of this 
first attack lay all the success of the day. Though far outnum- 
bering their opponents, the dragoons of Russia could not face 
such headlong impetuosity. The squadrons reeled, broke and 
ran, and Charles of Sweden exultingly shouted victory. He saw 
it in his grasp. At midnight he had sent General Creutz with 
5,000 dragoons by a wide detour to get around the right (west) 
flank of the Russian lines, and with orders to charge in force 
the moment the attack began in front. Now was the time for 
Creutz and his dragoons to make their appearance. But he 
never came. In the darkness of the night he had missed the 
way, and now at the instant when he was most needed Creutz 
was far away to the west. 

The tsar himself galloped among his cavalry, and with vehe- 
ment voice and gesture checked their disorder and re-established 
their lines. Menzikoff, their general, though having three horses 
killed under him, straightened out his squadrons and led them 
in for a counter attack. The Swedish horse were much broken 
by this time. The shock and inertia of the charge were gone 
and they were borne backward by the weight of foes, and their 
general, Slipenbak, was taken prisoner. At this moment, too, 
seventy guns in the intrenchments belched their deadly missiles 



THE SWEDES OVERWHELMED 395 

into the retiring ranks, and horses and riders were rolled in 
agony over the plain. All was over with the cuirassiers, who 
had fought so superbly for Sweden in so many spirited combats. 
And then, leaping over their intrenchments, 30,000 Russian in- 
fantry swarmed down upon the slender ranks of the Swedish 
foot. Charles saw that he could not risk a general engagement 
at that point until his cavalry was rallied and placed in position. 
Slowly therefore his lines fell back, keeping a steady front to 
the foe, and the king despatched messengers to hurry forward 
the reserves and the guards left with the camp and baggage. 
It was now too evident that every man would be needed. The 
Russian army was no longer the disorderly, undisciplined 
mob he had chased like sheep at Narva. Already had Peter's 
efforts prevailed. Already had Sweden taught Russia how to 
fight. 

Only too well : for here with a brilliant stroke of genius 
General Menzikoff was sent around the Swedish right flank at 
the head of a strong division of Russian cavalry. Peter served 
during the battle as major-general, apparently acting under the 
orders of General Sheremeto, but as emperor he rode every- 
where and was beyond question the leader of the day. It was 
he who gave Menzikoff his orders, and thus interposed nearly 
8,000 men between the Swedish right and their camp south of 
Pultowa. The reserves and camp-guards hastened forward to 
join Charles as ordered, but were pounced upon, surrounded 
and cut to pieces by Menzikoff, and now with Creutz and his 
5,000 dragoons lost, no one could tell where, his reserve cut to 
pieces, Charles XII. found himself out on the open plain with 
only about 18,000 available men and four small guns, confront- 
ing and hemmed in by 70,000 with seventy cannon. And still he 
would not yield, would not despair. Quickly forming his infantry 
in two lines, with his remaining cavalry on the flanks, he pre- 
pared to resist the coming attack. 

At nine o'clock the battle was resumed, a general cannon- 
ade from the Russian lines being the signal. Almost the first 
shot killed the horses of Charles' litter. Others were put in. 
Then a second shot struck the litter itself, knocking it into, 
2Q 



306 PULTOWA. 

kindling wood and hurling the wounded king with violence to 
the ground. Still he staggered to his feet, a rude litter carried 
by men was improvised, and in this he lay cheering and en- 
couraging his soldiers, urging them to stand fast against the now 
advancing Russian lines, and never noting how his bearers, man 
after man, were being struck down by the bullets whose whist- 
ling was the music his mad soul loved. Twenty-one soldiers, 
one after another, were killed while carrying their monarch on 
that terrible morning, yet nothing seemed to strike him. All 
his efforts, all his bravery were vain. Mowed down by the 
incessant discharges of the Russian guns, swept by the fire of 
Russian musketry, the Swedes were being slowly annihilated, 
and, at last, as the enemy advanced in rapid charge, the first 
line reeled back upon the second, and the second gave way. In 
ten minutes more the remnant of the grand army of Sweden, 
that eight years before was the most disciplined and courageous 
of Europe, was in full flight. Prince Wirtemberg, gallant 
Renschild and other officers of note, striving to rally their men, 
were captured by the enemy. Menzikoff stormed the well-nigh 
defenceless camp. Count Piper and the officers of the court 
were taken prisoners, and east and west, right and left over the 
sterile plain of Pultowa, Russia was reaping rich vengeance for 
the disgrace of Narva. 

The king raged, stormed, scorned to fly, but General Ponia- 
towski caused him to be lifted on a horse, and with a small es- 
cort, despite his struggles and protestations, led him from the 
field. All was over with the army of Sweden. Never was vic- 
tory more decisive. With only five hundred followers, Charles 
XII. fled towards the Dnieper. 

Of the immediate results of the victory of Peter the Great at 
Pultowa, history tells that all the artillery, baggage, camp-equi- 
page " and six millions in specie " fell into the hands of the victors. 
Nine thousand Swedes, Cossack allies included, were killed — six 
thousand Swedes with all their prominent generals were cap- 
tured. The shattered divisions that escaped under Loewenhaupt 
were pursued to the Boristhenes (Dnieper), where hundreds 
were drowned in attempting to cross ; the others were all taken 



MISFORTUNE AND DEATH OF CHARLES. 307 

prisoners, and Charles himself, now delirious with fever from his 
wound, was hurried away towards Turkey by Poniatowski and 
Mazeppa, and safely borne across the frontier. 

But his army was ruined and the cause of Sweden with it. 
From that time on he seems to have lost any mental balance he 
ever possessed. Five years were spent in Turkey in efforts to 
induce the sultan to place him at the head of an immense army 
with which to effect the conquest of Russia. Then came his 
marvellous ride in disguise across Europe to Stralsund on the 
Baltic, his final return to his kingdom, the immediate attack on 
Norway, and his death-blow before Frederickshall on St. An- 
drew's Day, December n, 171 8. A half-pound shot put an 
end to his adventurous life in his thirty-seventh year. He had 
reached the acme of prosperity — the depths of adversity. He 
had seen all Europe trembling before him, and had starved in 
darkness and disguise through cities which he had conquered 
but a short time before. Brave to rashness, firm to obstinacy, 
fatalist to madness, he was the author of his own downfall, and 
never could be brought to realize it. His was a career to be 
looked upon with wonder — perhaps admiration, but not to be 
held up for example. 

Had he been successful at Pultowa, which could hardly have 
been possible, his march on Moscow would have been unim- 
peded, and Russia would have been at his feet ; but his over- 
throw led to consequences simply incalculable. Rid of his 
nearest, most dangerous and most implacable enemy, Peter the 
Great was now at leisure to build up and extend his great em- 
pire. He made Russia the centre of trade between Asia and 
Europe. He built great military roads and navigable canals. 
He founded cities and raised noble public buildings. He ex- 
tended his realm to include and control the ports of the Baltic 
and the Black Seas. He called to his empire men of learning 
and science from all over Christendom. He raised Russia from 
a howling wilderness to the rank of the greatest empire in Eu- 
rope. "The Star of the North" had risen at Pultowa. 




BLENHEIM. 

1704. 

iT the very time when Charles XII. was overthrow- 
ing kings and armies in Poland, Saxony and Rus- 
sia, a great war broke out in Western Europe. 
Louis XIV., the most illustrious monarch that 
had worn the crown of France since the days 
when Charlemagne was building up his empire — 
Louis XIV., " Le Grand Monarque," as his peo- 
ple delighted to call him, was in the hey-day of 
his pride. Slowly but surely he had been extend- 
ing the limits of his kingdom for nearly forty years, and now his 
power was so great that the rival states of Western Europe be- 
gan to look with alarm upon his increasing accessions. His 
was a strong and rich government. " Ships, colonies and com- 
merce " were supplied by his energy and statesmanship. His 
was a strong and rich country, compact, united, easily de- 
fensible, and under his reign, Turenne, Conde and Villars led the 
armies of France to invariable victory, and the genius of the 
great Vauban fortified her frontiers with permanent works that 
were unequalled on the face of the earth. It was a glorious 
epoch in the history of the gallant nation ; and now, emboldened 
by a long career of triumph, Louis XIV. decided on the step 
which turned the tide and arrayed all Western Europe against 
him. 

Charles II., King of Spain, was slowly dying, and without an 
heir. Louis XIV. determined to secure for the Bourbons the 
throne of Spain as well as that of France, on which they now 
had so firm a hold. The combination of the two kingdoms 
under one monarch would have made an empire so formidable 
(308) 



"THE GRAND ALLIANCE." 3Q9 

as to instantly threaten the interests of all other thrones in 
Europe. Austria had long held a controlling interest in 
Spanish affairs, and she was the first to take alarm. 

Louis XIV., when he married the Infanta of Spain, in 1659, 
formally renounced all right of succession to the Spanish throne. 
Now, through his influence, the dying Charles named Philip, 
Duke of Anjou, and grandson of Louis XIV., his successor; and, 
although the King of France well knew that a general war 
would be the result, the instant the death of Charles was an- 
nounced, he sent his grandson in all haste to Spain as its king — 
Philip V. 

William III. was on the throne of England ; and while Aus- 
tria fumed and blustered over the daring aggression of France, 
England went to work with stern, set purpose. A powerful 
league, soon known as " The Grand Alliance," was formed under 
the guidance of William against the House of Bourbon ; and 
Austria, Holland, England, many of the German principalities, 
and presently Portugal, Savoy and Denmark joined forces with 
the avowed object of compelling France to release her hold on 
Spain. The death of King William, in 1702 (March 8th), de- 
layed matters but little. Queen Anne promptly " ratified " the 
action of her illustrious predecessor, and war against Louis XIV. 
was formally declared, and the greatest soldier of his day, the 
most brilliant, successful and superb conqueror and courtier 
England had yet known, stepped forward as commander-in- 
chief of the allied armies in the field. 

John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough, was born June 24th, 
1650. He had neither wealth, power nor education when he 
became a page of the royal Duke of York, but secured his first 
advancement, a commission in the guards, when just sixteen. 
A captain at twenty-two, he served in the Netherlands under 
the eye of that master of the art of war, Turenne, and won his 
unqualified praise by courage, brilliancy and dash. A hand- 
some person, wonderful address, and the admiration and worship 
of influential women did the rest. He came back to England a 
colonel, became a baron and general under James II., to whom 
he professed undying loyalty, and whom he abandoned without 



310 BLENHEIM. 

the faintest scruple on the landing of William of Orange ; and 
though this latter honest and truth-loving gentleman must have 
despised the turn-coat in his heart, he had use for his martial 
ability, sent him into Ireland as Earl of Marlborough, to reduce 
that turbulent populace to subjection, and then gave him chief 
command in the Netherlands, where he did splendid service in 
the field, and was speedily detected in treasonable acts in the 
cabinet, which led to his arrest and confinement in the Tower 
of London. But the outbreak of the great war of the Spanish 
succession called him again to the front. His wife, Sarah Jen- 
nings that was, had unlimited influence from her earliest girl- 
hood over Queen. Anne, and secured his restoration to the chief 
command. Godolphin, the prime minister, was his son-in-law, 
and Lord Marlborough, through these two, virtually ruled his 
queen. He went forth to fight the battles of England, beyond 
all question, at home and abroad, her most powerful and influen- 
tial noble. 

In 1702 Marlborough drove the French out of Guelders, and 
Queen Anne made him Duke of Marlborough, the highest rank 
he could hope to attain; and in 1703 he hastened to the sup- 
port of Austria, joining his brilliant coadjutor, Prince Eugene 
of Savoy. In June, 1704, he stormed the French and Bavarian 
position at Donauwerth, and on August 13th fought and won 
his most brilliant and magnificent battle — Blenheim. 

His long and admirably conducted march, from Flanders up 
the Rhine, and then eastward towards Austria, has been the 
theme of many a military writer for years past, but space will 
limit us to the great battles fought under his leadership, and of 
these Blenheim was by long odds the most decisive. 

Some thirty miles northeastward of the strong fortress of Ulm, 
the river Danube strikes on its left bank a range of rocky and 
precipitous heights, that begin just north of the twin-villages of 
Lauingen and Dillingen, and end with the cliffs of the Schallen- 
berg at Donauwerth, fifteen miles farther on. The southeast or 
right bank is all flat and uninteresting along here, but the other 
side is dotted with numbers of pretty, home-like little coun- 
try towns, and intersected by numerous rapid and sparkling 



GEOGRAPHICAL POSITION. 31 1 

streams that rise among the bold hills to the northwest and 
come tumbling down to join the Danube. The great high road 
from Ulm to Donauwerth stretches along parallel to the general 
direction of the river, and is sometimes crowded close to its left 
bank by the heights. After leaving Dillingen it runs through 
Hochstadt, Schweringen and Dapfheim, and crosses seven 
streams in less than ten miles. Just north of Hochstadt are two, 
whose banks are mere marshes. Three miles farther on, issuing 
from a deep valley among the heights, is another whose banks 
are steep and sudden ; this is the little Nebel. It is only twelve 
feet broad at its mouth; with a good jumping-pole almost any 
school-boy could, in places, leap from one bank to the other; 
but it was a troublesome stream to cross on the 13th of August, 
1704. The high road spans it a mile west of its junction with 
the Danube. Between the bridge and the broad river were then 
two old stone mills run by water power ; beyond them, nearer 
the Danube, in the angle between it and the Nebel, was a little 
country town with snug houses built of stone, and the low ridge 
on which they huddled together was criss-crossed with stone 
fences and breast-high walls. That insignificant town gave its 
name to one of the most renowned and glorious victories in the 
annals of war. England went wild over it, as well she might, 
for at Blenheim the Britons rose to the first rank among the 
military powers of Europe. 

There are other little villages on both banks of the Nebel, 
well up into the gorge where it rises. They are only a mile or 
two apart, for the country is populous and thickly settled. 
Facing northeast, we have Blenheim on our right, near the 
Danube ; Oberglauh in front of us and to the left of the high 
road, and Lutzingen up among the hills still farther to ou. .eft 
hand. Here, on the southwest bank of the Nebel, on the 12th 
of August, 1704, the army of France was leisurely going into 
camp along in the afternoon. In two long lines its tents were 
pitched from Blenheim up beyond Lutzingen, parallel to the 
stream and nearly a mile behind it. Fine soldiers had Marshal 
Tallard with him there — men who had fought under the banners 
of Louis XIV. all over Western Europe, and generally with great 



312 BLENHEIM. 

success. Three distinguished generals were to head the allied 
forces of France and Bavaria in the coming fight. At least esti- 
mate their army consisted of 56,000 men, divided into the corps 
of Tallard, about 22,000 strong; that of Marshal Marsin, 26,000, 
and that of the Elector of Bavaria, which is estimated at from 
8,000 to 12,000 men. Fifty-six guns were distributed among 
the three corps, and when going into camp, the first corps was 
on the right towards Blenheim ; the second (Marsin), from the 
high road to Oberglauh, in the centre ; the third, Bavarian, on 
the extreme left. A stronger position was not to be found any- 
where in that part of Germany. The Danube, unfordable every- 
where for miles, and bridged only at Dillingen and Donauwerth, 
protected their right flank ; the rugged, precipitous heights 
amply secured their left against attack, and in front was the 
Nebel with its steep banks, yet boggy, miry shores. Tallard, 
seeing his horsemen getting in up to their horses' bellies in mud 
and mire while trying to water them, concluded that between 
Oberglauh and the mills, that little stream would prove an effec- 
tive barrier against cavalry attack, and gave himself no further 
anxiety on that score. But, even while going into camp that 
August afternoon, his light horse, scouting out towards Schwe- 
ringen, on the high road, ran slap into the British advance- 
guard. Marlborough and Prince Eugene were coming up the 
valley in search of him. 

From the moment of their first interview at Mondelsheim in 
June of that eventful year, these two great soldiers whose names 
are linked with such a career of victory, Marlborough and 
Eugene, had conceived for each other an almost romantic re- 
gard and admiration. Each seemed at a glance to discover the 
hi to ". pint ?nd soldierly ability of the other. It was as though 
they had been made to fight as allies, so complete and uninter- 
rupted was the understanding between them, so admirably did 
they support and strengthen each other. At the outset they had 
been much hampered by the presence and interference of the mar- 
grave, Prince Louis of Baden, but this pompous and fussy old 
soldier had been induced to undertake the siege of Ingoldstadt, 
thus leaving his spirited colleagues to their own devices. They 



MARLBOROUGH AND EUGENE IN COMMAND. 313 

had united their commands by brilliant manoeuvring only a 
few days before, and now, in high hope and spirits, were march- 
ing rapidly up the Danube in search of the Frenchmen. From 
the church tower at Dapfheim, on the afternoon of August 13th, 
they could see, five miles away, the long lines of tents across 
the Nebel, and their resolution was taken at once. Strong as 
was the position of Tallard, it was best to attack him before he 
could make it stronger. A Prussian general who had been long 
familiar with the ground, and some of Lord Marlborough's own 
officers, seeing from the preparations that an immediate assault 
was contemplated, ventured to dissuade him. The French were 
certainly 4,000, perhaps 8,000, more numerous, and had the 
choice of position ; but the two generals had discussed the whole 
matter and made up their minds. It was " now or never," for, 
with Villeroy and his army advancing to the support of Tallard, 
with the certainty of his fortifying the line of the Nebel if he 
were given any time at all, it was evident that they must strike, 
and strike at once. 

" I know the danger," said Lord Marlborough, "yet a battle 
is absolutely necessary, and I rely on the bravery and disci- 
pline of the troops, which will make amends for our disad- 
vantages." 

This ended all objections. Orders were issued that evening 
for a general engagement, and they were received with an en- 
thusiasm which justified Lord Marlborough's confidence. His 
army was encamped along the line of the Kessel, another of the 
little streams coming down from the heights. Prince Eugene 
with his 16,000 was on the extreme right and well up among 
the hills, but such hours of the early night of the 12th— 13th 
that the English general did not devote to needed rest and to 
an earnest interview with his chaplain, he gave to confidential 
talk with his colleague, planning the details of a battle so soon 
to be fought — a battle " which appeared to involve the fate of 
the Christian world." 

At two o'clock on the morning of August 13th the army of 
the confederates was called to arms, tents were left standing, 
baggage packed, and at three, marching through the darkness 



314 BLENHEIM. 

in parallel columns, infantry, cavalry and the light guns, they 
forded the Kessel, crowded through the narrow defile at Dapf- 
heim, and, just as day began to break, they came in sight of the 
advanced posts of the French, who fell back before them. A 
slight haze had settled on the valley. The French pickets 
scurrying back to the Nebel were severely rebuked by the gen- 
erals, who were aroused by their report. France had made up 
her mind that the instant the confederates heard of her army 
advancing down the Danube they would fall back on Nordlingen. 
Marshal Tallard would not believe it possible that they could 
have the temerity to come forward and meet him. It could be 
nothing but a scouting party of cavalry, said he ; but at seven 
o'clock the fog lifted, and there, before his astonished eyes, was 
the army of Marlborough already deploying on the high ground 
northeast of the Nebel, and the columns of Prince Eugene march- 
ing up the narrow valley of the little stream and forming a con- 
tinuation of the line. Instantly the Frenchman realized his 
mistake ; the trumpets rang out the assembly; signal guns called 
in his foragers ; the men sprang to arms, and with great spirit 
and eagerness the battalions marched out before their camps, 
taking part in the hastily determined lines of battle. The ad- 
vance guards at the same moment setting fire to the little hatru 
lets of Berghausen, Schwenenbach and Weilheim over on the 
eastern bank, hastened back to join the main body. 

Our place as observers will be with Marlborough over on the 
other side, but let us first note the formation of the French line, 
which, in some excitement and confusion, is going on before our 
eyes. Tallard thought those marshy shores between Ober- 
glauh and the mills a sufficient obstacle last night and has had 
no time to examine them since, but he has spent the night in 
Blenheim, and that at least is strongly palisaded, loopholed and 
prepared for vigorous defence; and now, just because they think 

Note. — It seems best to adopt the verbiage of Archdeacon Coxe, whose complete 
history of Marlborough is regarded as authority second to none. The army of 
France and Bavaria is by him called that of "the allies." The army of England, 
Holland, Hanover, Denmark, Savoy, Austria, etc. — that commanded by MarL 
borough and Eugene. — is spoken of as "the confederates." 



CAREFUL PREPARATIONS. 315 

it impossible for the English to charge across the stream, both 
wings of the French army form with the cavalry towards the 
grand centre and the infantry on the flanks. Blenheim, Ober- 
glauh and Lutzingen are bristling with musketeers, but the mile 
between the inner flanks of the infantry is taken up by two lines 
of squadrons of French horse, an odd and hitherto untried ar- 
rangement. But Marshal Tallard is a man in whom the soldiers 
have every confidence. He is rapidly riding from point to point 
giving personal supervision to every detail. First he dismounts 
a brigade of dragoons and forms them on his extreme right, 
between Blenheim and the Danube, behind a lot of wagons. 
The village itself he fairly crams with his infantry; nearly 10,- 
ooo footmen are packed within its loopholed walls and garden 
hedges, and a strong reserve stands ready behind the little brook 
they call the Meulweyer, that rises back of the village and runs 
into the Danube. The mills down on the Nebel suddenly burst 
into flame as the field-batteries come trotting to the front, and 
it is evident that the Frenchmen do not propose so much to 
prevent the crossing of the Nebel, as to hammer the English 
when they get across. Blenheim itself is a most defensible 
point, and here General de Clerambault, as gallant a soldier as 
France can show, is assigned to the command, with orders to 
hold it to the last extremity. 

To the left of Blenheim are the cavalry. Eight squadrons of 
gens-d'armes nearest the right and from there — way over to 
Oberglauh, across the highway — there are some fifty squadrons 
in the two lines. Back of Oberglauh are the footmen of Marshal 
Marsin, the brigades of Champagne and Bourbonnois, and a third 
brigade, fellows who are fighting far from home, whose own 
fortunes were wrecked at the battle of the Boyne not so very 
long before, and who have taken service with the French since 
they had nowhere else to go. They, the Irishmen, are to win 
glory to-day, and, ere long, immortal reputation at Fontenoy. 
Beyond Oberglauh, and well up the valley of the Nebel, the lines 
of horse and foot extend — the Bavarians being on the extreme 
left among the wooded hills in front of Lutzingen, and behind 
the entire line strong reserves take post. Generally, the French 



316 BLENHEIM. 

and Bavarians may be said to form two strong lines, well out in 
front of their camp ; and in front of all, close to the low bluffs 
overhanging the Nebel, the field-batteries of eight and twenty- 
four pounders are already unlimbered and ready for work. 

In such a position, with such a tried army, and with the ad- 
vantage in numbers, well may Marshal Tallard feel confidence. 

Now let us cross the Nebel, get well over to the height in front 
of the bridge along which the highway is conducted, and from 
there survey the entire field and watch the entire battle, for, 
once past that height, the English will never be driven back. 
The Nebel lies at its foot. English field-batteries are already 
unlimbering upon it; the lines of cavalry and infantry are de- 
ploying behind it ; but here is the point of all others from which 
to see the combat; here in a few moments will be Marlborough 
himself. Just now he is among those little stone-houses to the 
north, the hamlet of Wolperstetten, eagerly talking with Prince 
Eugene, while the troops of the latter are still filing through 
on their way to the extreme right. Here, facing about, towards 
the Nebel and the French, the field lies before us. There to 
our left front, a mile away towards the Danube, is Blenheim, a 
citadel now. Here, directly in front, is the highway-bridge 
across the Nebel. There to the right front is Oberglauh and 
Marsin's stronghold. Beyond that, backed by the woody crests, 
Lutzingen and the Bavarians. Every foot of the opposite bank 
is occupied by the compact army of the French. 

Now for the English lines. On our extreme left, down to- 
wards the Danube, is the division of Lord Cutts — four lines of 
horse and two of foot. He is well forward, almost within mus- 
ket range of Blenheim, and close to the east bank of the Nebel. 
Next to him, stretching way across the rising ground on which 
we stand, across the highway and up the valley towards Prince 
Eugene, in two slender lines some hundred yards apart, are the 
infantry battalions of the English centre, and between these lines, 
a third long line of closed squadrons of cavalry. It is unusual 
to form cavalry in this way with footmen in front and rear, but 
the crossing of the stream is already a problem on which Lord 
Marlborough has been studying ; officers have been forward to 



"LET HIM ATTACK AT ONCE." 3^7 

sound it ; cavalry sent to the hills to cut bundles of saplings 
and tie them into " fascines " for temporary use in fording ; and 
engineer officers with pontoons have already got to work at 
different points between the hamlet of Unterglauh and the 
burning mills. Marlborough means to cross the stream and 
assault an army in position. He is only waiting for Prince 
Eugene. 

Just at eight o'clock the guns of the French open a furious 
cannonade on the forming troops of Marlborough, and the bat- 
teries of the latter answer at once. The battle of Blenheim for 
some hours is destined to be an artillery combat. Prince Eu- 
gene is having unexpected difficulty up there in the gorge, and 
cannot get his men into position to suit him. While waiting for 
the signal, religious services are conducted at the head of each 
regiment, and, when they are over, the army rests on its arms. 
It has been arranged between the two generals that their attack 
shall be simultaneous, and that Eugene shall extend his lines 
sufficiently far up the gorge of the Nebel to overlap the extreme 
left of the French army (there held mainly by Bavarians), and 
that he shall endeavor to gain the heights and " turn " that 
flank. But the prince has found the heights north of Lutzingen 
already occupied by a strong force, and this compels him to 
extend his line farther up the gorge than was expected ; and 
then, to keep up his connection with Marlborough, he has to 
bring his reserve into the front rank. Now his ranks extend 
far out of sight up the wooded ravine beyond Eichberg, but 
he is ready at last. 

Just at twelve o'clock, staff-officers come galloping up the 
slope, and, saluting Lord Marlborough, report that Prince Eu- 
gene is in position. " Let him attack at once, then," are the 
brief instructions as the duke mounts his horse and turns down 
the slope towards his left. " Order Lord Cutts to assault Blen- 
heim," is the next command, and under the eye of the chief the 
four lines of infantry on the left sweep down towards the mills, 
and in thundering uproar the guns of Blenheim open upon them 
with grape-shot. Rowe's brigade of English leads. Behind 
him come the Hessians, then Ferguson's battalions of foot, and 



318 BLENHEIM. 

then the Hanoverian brigade. Cutts' cavalry, consisting of Ross' 
dragoons and the light troopers of General Wood, remain for a 
moment to watch the success of the infantry crossing before they 
are sent in. Meantime Lord Marlborough orders forward every 
available gun, and personally superintends the opening of their 
fire. Now the infantry swarm down upon the burning mills and 
struggle across the Nebel. Foremost rides General Rowe, who 
rapidly forms and aligns his men on the western bank prepara- 
tory to leading them forward to the assault. To the English 
foot belongs the honor of the first crossing of the Nebel. 

Swampy as is the ground along the little stream, they struggle 
through: for many, led by eager young officers, will not wait to 
crowd over the pontoon bridge. Blenheim stands back on ris- 
ing ground, and there is a regular bluff close to the water's 
edge, under shelter of which the grapeshot of the batteries can- 
not reach them, and here the brigade of Rowe, all Britons, as 
we have noticed, forms and aligns its ranks preparatory to breast- 
ing the slope and charging up to the palisades and walls of the 
village. It will take at least five minutes even for their ener- 
getic chief to get that little brigade into shape ; so, while the 
Hessians are crossing behind him, and Ferguson's brigade is 
occupying the mills, let us take one good look over the field. 
Ten minutes more it will be obscured by powder smoke. 

Here on our knoll Lord Marlborough has again taken his 
station with his staff. It overlooks the valley of the Nebel, and 
here, if anywhere, the movements of the troops can be distinctly 
seen. The batteries are hammering away at one another, and 
occasionally the shot pass uncomfortably close to the com- 
mander-in-chief. But a moment ago one twenty-four pounder 
ploughed the ground between his horse's legs and covered him 
with dust and dirt, but could not induce him to quit the position. 
Looking over to the French side of the Nebel, we see what ap- 
pears to be two continuous lines of cavalry stretching from 
Blenheim to Oberglauh — over a mile and a half of horsemen. 
Back of them are the tents of their late encampment. In front 
of them are the batteries ; two are at Blenheim, blazing away 
with grape at the men of Lord Cutts' division still crossing at 



MARLBOROUGH'S MISTAKEN SUPPOSITION. 319 

the mills; another, close to the high-road, is sending its compli- 
ments across the Nebel at the very knoll on which we are stand- 
ing; while west of it, three more are posted along the bluff 
firing apparently at the batteries we have placed in position near 
Unterglauh and Weilheim — these little villages from which the 
flames are still rising off here to our right hand. We wonder 
where Tallard has posted all his infantry, and well we may. Not 
a man, from the Duke of Marlborough down to the drummers, 
imagines that nearly 10,000 footmen are in and around the walls 
of that village on our left. Off to the west, at Oberglauh, we 
can see strong masses of musketeers around the stone walls and 
even on the slopes in front, and, in two lines, a division at least 
stands behind it. Somewhere there is that Irish brigade of 
which so much has been heard, and so much more is to be 
heard before we get through with this day's work. There be- 
yond Oberglauh is another strong division of foot, and there is 
no telling how many that old soldier Marsin has planted in the 
village itself. Beyond them, some three miles away from us, 
we can see more lines of cavalry drawn up by squadrons, in 
front of Lutzingen, where the Elector of Bavaria makes his 
head-quarters ; and farther still, way up in those wooded slopes, 
dense bodies of infantry. If that position can be flanked, it must 
be by a bigger army than Lord Marlborough can muster to- 
day. He is right — it must be attacked along the whole line, and 
pluck and discipline must win. He is wrong only in one sup- 
position : that Blenheim is held by a detachment. He has had 
pontoons thrown over the Nebel : one in front of the village ; 
two here between Unterglauh and the highway just to our right; 
two more up there just beyond Unterglauh ; and he means to ad- 
vance the whole line as soon as Rowe and Cutts get to work 
down there on the left. They are his fighting generals, and 
occupy subordinate positions, in reality, to men who are their 
inferiors in military merit. 

We have come to that stage in European military history 
when princes and dukes are intrusted with important com- 
mands in the field simply through the favor of their sovereign, 
while better men do their manoeuvring, planning and fighting. 



320 BLENHEIM. 

These magnates are the persons of consequence named in the 
despatches, and to them the honors of the victory are ofttimes 
attributed. It cannot be said that they do not fearlessly share 
the dangers and exposure of the battle-field, but it must be ad- 
mitted that many a high-born personage appears on the roster 
of Blenheim who is more in the way than anything else. The 
combined armies of Marlborough and Eugene do not exceed 
53,000 men, and to lead them we have seven generals, thirteen 
lieutenant-generals, twenty-one major-generals, and eighteen 
brigadiers, more than enough with the two commanders to 
handle an army ten times its size. Fortunately a great many 
are merely honorary positions, and Lord Marlborough has so 
arranged his army that his Englishmen are mainly down to- 
wards the left where the hardest fighting must be ; while to the 
Hanoverians and Dutch he assigns his own right, the centre of 
the combined line. In this way, too, Prince Eugene seems to 
have posted his best fighters — the Danes and Prussians — on his 
right, while his cavalry extended thence towards the centre. 
It is evident that the flanks are to begin the attack in force. 

It is now just one o'clock. The thunder of the cannon has 
thus far monopolized the noise of battle. Now comes a distant 
sound, a rattle of musketry from our extreme right. Far up 
there in the gorge Eugene has begun his attack. Now for the 
assault on Blenheim. Every man grasping " Brown Bess," as in 
the days of good Queen Anne the English soldier called his 
musket, the men of Rowe's brigade scramble up the bluff; then, 
reaching the sloping ground above, find themselves fairly in 
sight of the palisaded walls of Blenheim. Let us watch them. 
Already the Hessian brigade has formed in their stead on the 
flats, and Ferguson is crossing his men. Our interest centres in 
that slender line now marching sturdily up towards the village. 
Never halting to fire, never responding to the discharges of the 
battery, they trudge fearlessly on. They are way within muskets 
shot of the hedges and walls, yet not a trigger is pulled. Can 
it be possible that the French mean to back out of Blenheim ? 
Impossible. The line is almost at the palisade; the general, 
riding out in front, drives his sword into the wooden post at the 




.:,,••■ 





THE BRITISH LINE RECOILS. 321 

first gateway; then, with one explosion, the walls, roofs, towers, 
windows of Blenheim blaze with flame. Waiting until the Eng- 
lish brigade is within thirty paces, the French infantry drives 
in a merciless, a death-dealing fire, and Lord Marlborough sees 
in an instant that instead of a detachment, a whole division is 
there. Instantly he orders forward his entire line. 

But at the palisades General Rowe falls mortally wounded; 
his officers, attempting to carry off his body, are themselves shot 
down and killed ; in five minutes one-third of the brigade lie 
dead in their tracks, and then with much dismay, but still keep- 
ing their front, the British recoil. Then, concealed by the smoke 
and noise of the batteries, three squadrons of French gens- 
d'armes rush down upon the right flank. The little brigade, 
leaderless, amazed, half-gone, falls slowly back, and this new as- 
sault throws them into confusion. The Hessian line rushes up 
to their succor, and the French cavalry have to turn, and General 
Lumley, here right behind the knoll, sends forward five squad- 
rons of horsemen to punish those gens-d'armes. These fellows 
are English cavalrymen. Prince Eugene only two months agone 
pronounced them the finest in Europe, and they go down the 
slopes, through the marshy Nebel, and up the other bank as 
though war were a delight. Halting but an instant on the other 
shore they draw sabre, and despite the guns, despite the galling 
musketry fire from the walls of the village, they charge squarely 
up the slope through the first line of French horsemen, through 
the second, the brigade of General Tilly ; then, nearly surrounded 
and cut off, they have to charge back and once more reform 
down by the Nebel under shelter of the Hessian brigade. 

Now Ferguson and Hulsen have got their brigades across, 
and the enemy fearing to lose his battery, calls the twenty-four 
pounders within the shelter of the walls. Lord Cutts' entire 
infantry sweeps forward, but a withering fire meets them from 
every inch of the walls. Blenheim still holds a superior force 
and the attack is madness. Twice he rallies his lines to the 
assault, but they are driven back with terrible loss, and at two 
in the afternoon the shattered infantry division of Lord Cutts is 
seeking shelter under the bluff southwest of the Nebel, Lord 
21 



322 BLENHEIM. 

Marlborough, eagerly watching the attack from our position 
here on the knoll, plainly sees that he has sustained a sad re- 
verse. But he never loses heart, never changes his cheery, 
confident manner. Ordering Lord Cutts to hang on to the 
slopes, and, by keeping up a semblance of attack, engage the 
entire attention of the enemy in Blenheim, he himself conducts 
the movement which is, he hopes, to pierce the enemy's centre. 

Marching down in closed columns to the Nebel, the infantry 
of the first line has already crossed and begun to deploy on the 
opposite shore. The guns rake them savagely with grape, but 
they do not falter. They secure their foothold opposite the 
enemy's centre and do not mean to yield it. After them come 
the cavalry of General Churchill's command, some over the 
pontoon bridges, some through the stream, and, before they 
can get out on the open ground in front of the infantry, down at 
headlong charge comes Turlauben's entire division of horsemen 
of the French first line. They have every advantage, and our 
horsemen are driven back — some as far as the Nebel ; but 
Churchill's infantry has knelt behind the low hedge across the 
field, and their musketry fire soon drives Turlauben's troopers 
to cover; while from our second line, Bothmar's dragoon brigade 
sweeps forward in capital order and charges home on the retiring 
squadrons of the French, driving and following them beyond the 
Maulweyer; and here in turn our troopers are met by over- 
whelming numbers and forced to fall back. It is impossible to 
tell how matters will result here on our left and centre. Thus 
far the French have the best of it. 

But meanwhile the Duke of Marlborough has been steadily 
sending all his army across the stream, and now, at three o'clock, 
General Lumley has reformed and straightened out our squad- 
rons in front of the low bluffs west of Blenheim, and they are in 
readiness to act with renewed spirit. Meantime, too, Lieutenant- 
General Hompesch with the Dutch cavalry, and the Duke of 
Wurtemberg with the Danes and Hanoverians have managed to 
scramble over the boggy banks up towards Oberglauh, and now 
they are in line, the infantry closely following them. Marshal 
Margin sends a few old battalions from his centre back of Ober- 



THE ADVANTAGE STILL WITH THE ALLIES. 323 

glauh. They come steadily forward until at the crest, drive a 
few volleys into the Dutch and Danish cavalry ; then comes a 
charge of French dragoons, and back go the Dutchmen. Marl- 
borough has crossed most of his army, but, what has he gained ? 
Nothing, apparently, but a position in which he can be ham- 
mered worse than when on the northeastern bank of the Nebel, 
and still there comes no good news from Prince Eugene on the 
west. Many a man would have lost his nerve at this juncture, 
and the Duke of Marlborough might readily have been excused 
had he seen fit to withdraw his troops and fall back to the line 
of the Kessel, where his tents were still standing, but his is not 
the stuff that gives up easily. 

For some time the Prince of Holstein Beck has been can- 
nonading Oberglauh from that knoll over there near burning 
Weilheim. Now he limbers up his battery, and with eleven 
battalions moves down to the stream and forms on the bank be- 
low the position of Marsin's right ; begins to form rather, for 
before the columns are fairly across they are attacked by a 
strong division of infantry, and with that division is the famous 
Irish brigade. These fellows had hoped to be pitted against 
the British, but are quite ready to fight anything that comes in 
their way, and it is a black day for Holstein Beck and his Hano- 
verians. Lord Marlborough, watching the move across the 
Nebel, sees the sudden advance of Marsin's infantry and seems 
to have a premonition of what is coming, for instantly he gal- 
lops off towards Weilheim. Before he can get there it is all 
over with Holstein Beck ; the Irish brigade have sprung upon 
his leading lines like starving tigers on their prey. Two bat- 
talions are swept out of existence, and, leaving their princely 
leader mortally wounded under the slopes of Oberglauh, the 
shattered division is in full retreat across the stream, when Marl- 
borough himself appears in their midst. First he checks their 
wild and disorderly flight and faces them about ; then he hurries 
the brigade of Bernsdorf over from Weilheim and posts it facing 
Oberglauh. Then, cheering on his cavalry, he sends in all the 
squadrons of Imperialists to charge the flanks of the now baffled 
line, The Danes and Hanoverian horse are sent around to the 



324 BLENHEIM. 

other (western) flank, and by their impetuous rush, and the now- 
steady valor of the German infantry, the battle is restored. 
Marsin's infantry are driven backward up the slope, Irish and 
all, and forced to seek shelter behind the walls of Oberglauh. 
For fifteen minutes it looked as though all was over with our 
right centre. Now all is triumph again, but it took all the 
magnetic power of Marlborough to effect it. He alone was 
capable of restoring the battle. 

It is three o'clock as the duke gallops back to the high-road, 
sending Lord Tunbridge to announce to Prince Eugene that his 
entire force is now across the Nebel and about to assault the 
French centre. He also eagerly inquires how the battle is going 
on the right. Eugene has been having a vividly exciting but 
most unsatisfactory combat. The woods are thick, the ravines 
deep and rugged, and charges and countercharges have been 
going on for two hours. His troops are well-nigh exhausted 
and dispirited, for they have gained little or nothing. It seems 
impossible to drive those dogged Bavarians out of their covert 
among the rocks. The cavalry are unable to act, yet are severe 
sufferers from the grape of the enemy's battery. The artillery, 
after huge exertions, succeed in lugging their guns up the slopes 
and open fire on the Bavarians, but the latter are so sheltered that 
they cling to their ground. In vain Prince Eugene, the Prince 
of Anhalt and the elector himself ride among, and strive to en- 
courage their men ; a new charge is ordered, but, though the 
lines obey and advance, it is spiritless and weak; once more they 
reel and are about to recoil, when Prince Eugene, braving al- 
most certain death, spurs out to the front, cheering and waving 
his sword, and some devoted soldiers follow him. The example 
is not thrown away ; officers leap in front of the wavering ranks 
and call to their men to follow them, and now at last they 
grapple hand-to-hand with the Bavarians, and here the Bavarians 
get the worst of it. After a short, sharp, bloody struggle, they 
stagger from their stronghold among the rocks and trees and 
go sullenly backward down the ravine toward Lutzingen. "Now 
bring up those guns and plant them here," is the exultant order, 
for, the heights above the village once gained, a raking fire can 



LUTZINGEN WON. 325 

be poured along the enemy's lines and into the walls of Lutz- 
ingen. Eugene has turned the allied left. The Bavarians are 
falling back — yes, behind Lutzingen now ; and they have left 
some of their own guns on the heights too. Another moment 
and — look! the rocky crest is vomiting flame and smoke, and 
the batteries of Eugene are hurling iron missiles down the valley. 
Now, Bavaria ! the sooner you get out of it the better. The 
allied left comes drifting back, doubling up on the lines of Mar- 
sin behind Oberglauh. Lutzingen is won. 

Yet it would not, could not have been lost to the Bavarians 
had Marsin detached a few battalions from his left, and sent them 
up to support the elector. Why did he fail ? For four mortal 
hours the elector has held the heights against the combined 
attacks of Eugene and Anhalt, and not until five o'clock does he 
loosen his grasp on the strong position he has so doggedly held. 
Marsin ought to have aided him, but Marsin dare not send a 
man. Here, right along the slopes of the Nebel, almost under 
his nose, stretching from Oberglauh to Blenheim, but partially 
sheltered by the rise of the ground, the cavalry of Britain and 
the confederates have been coolly forming in two lines, backed 
by heavy masses of infantry, and Marsin dare not move ; he 
does not know how soon he may need every man to repel the 
grand assault that is evidently coming. So too with Tallard. 
Throughout the armies of France and Bavaria there is a whole- 
some dread of the British cavalry, and Marlborough knows well 
how to use it. Leaving their colleague at Lutzingen to shift 
for himself, these two generals, Tallard and Marsin, devote all 
their energies to meeting the new move. Tallard marches 
strong battalions of infantry along his line, stationing them at 
intervals between the squadrons ; Marlborough (whose infantry 
thus far, since crossing the Nebel, have been drawn up with con- 
venient gaps through which the cavalry can retire if compelled 
to fall back) now sends forward some of the best footmen to 
crown the brow of the low hill towards the enemy, and having 
assigned them their positions, which they are ordered to hold 
against counter attack, he advances the entire line. In all "the 
pomp and circumstance of glorious war " the combined horse 



326 BLENHEIM. 

and foot of Britain and the confederates move slowly up the 
slopes. At the same instant Marlborough's cannons open over 
their heads at the French lines, and in another moment, the 
leading ranks come full into view of the enemy. Then begins 
a thunder of field-guns such as Blenheim has not yet heard. 
Two field-batteries are run up to the brow of the bluff between 
the squadrons and open rapidly on the French lines. 

And now eight thousand horsemen are about to charge ten 
thousand, supported, too, by infantry. For a few moments the 
English guns and musketry pour rapid volleys into the opposing 
ranks, receiving heavy fire in return, but holding firmly to their 
ground. Then right and left along the slopes the trumpets 
ring out their stirring call, the sabres of fifty gallant squadrons 
flash in air, and with one mad cheer the troopers of England 
dash forward to the charge. In vain the French musketeers 
salute them with rapid, low-aimed volleys that empty many a 
saddle. On they go, and the gunners and footmen hold their 
breath and envy their mounted comrades the glory of that wild 
ride. Straight at Tallard's squadrons they drive. In they rush 
between the hurriedly forming squares ; and the French dra- 
goons appalled at the fury of the onset, fire their carbines in 
panicky haste, then dash spurs to their horses, wheel about and 
scatter for shelter, leaving nine squares of gallant musketeers 
to their fate. In vain Tallard rallies and faces westward a strong 
division of his horsemen, whose right now rests on Blenheim. 
The victorious riders after driving before them five thousand 
horsemen over into the valley of the little Brunnen, now wheel 
to their left, charge this new formed line, and scatter them like 
sheep over the banks and down into the morass and the Danube 
beyond. The centre is pierced. Tallard and Marsin are hurled 
apart. Blenheim is won, and the cavalry have won it. 

But it is only half-past five, and before the sun goes down 
there is a deal of hard fighting to be done. This last charge of 
horsemen has completely cut off the garrison of the town itself 
from the rest of the army. Tallard's wing is practically ruined. 
He himself, a small escort of cavalry and his staff have nar- 
rowly escaped being cut to pieces, and though witnesses of 



MARSHAL TALLARD A PRISONER. 327 

the slaughter and destruction of the thirty squadrons which so 
lately strove to reform, back of the tents and to the south of 
Blenheim, he and his immediate followers have managed to slip 
through to Sonderheim, a little hamlet just under the banks of 
the Danube. He has sent to Marsin imploring aid, but Marsin's 
right has been doubled up on his centre, and now this latter 
officer finds himself in a bad predicament. Directly in his front 
there is no longer any foe ; yet towards Lutzingen, to his left 
and rear, the troops of the Elector of Bavaria are crowding back 
upon him, and to his right his lines are being doubled up by the 
squadrons and foot of General Churchill. From the heights 
above Lutzingen, Prince Eugene has been a witness of the grand 
charge and victory of the Duke of Marlborough, and now he is 
straining every nerve to complete the work on the enemy's left. 
His losses have been severe, but he renews his efforts and sends 
his wearied men in to the attack of Lutzingen. It is speedily 
carried, and then the Bavarians fall back in disorder upon Mar- 
sin, who now sees no help for it. He, too, must retreat, but he 
forms his columns and falls back in capital order, while from the 
roofs and walls of Oberglauh and Lutzingen, columns of smoke 
and flame rise in air. The vanquished army is setting fire to 
everything in its retreat. Keeping close under the heights, 
though vehemently pursued by Eugene, the remnants of the 
elector's army and the well-handled columns of Marsin move 
steadily back towards the valley of the Brunnen. They are fre- 
quently charged by cavalry, but the gathering darkness favors 
their escape, and by eight o'clock they are clear of the field. 

But around Blenheim the battle still rages fiercely. Marshal 
Tallard had sent an officer earlier in the afternoon to order the 
troops within the village to file out and join him, but the order 
never reached de Clerambault, who was in command, and now, 
at six p. m., Tallard himself, with his staff, has been surrounded 
by dragoons in Sonderheim and is a prisoner of war, treated as 
a distinguished guest by Marlborough, and de Clerambault is 
drowned in the Danube with hundreds of unfortunate men who 
strove to swim across its rapid tide. The gallant Frenchmen 
holding Blenheim are without a commander, without orders, 



328 BLENHEIM. 

without hope, but they mean to fight. They have seen the com- 
plete demolition of the cavalry. They can plainly see the dis- 
tant retreat of Marsin. They are isolated, and will soon 
be surrounded. An effort is made to cut their way through 
towards Hochstadt; but General Lumley with some of his 
battalions and that renowned regiment of dragoons, the Scots 
Greys, fiercely charge and repel the sortie. General Churchill 
extends his infantry completely around the stone hedges of the 
little town. Lord Orkney and General Ingoldsby lead their 
men in to the assault, but recoil before the heroic defence of the 
garrison, and, just as the sun goes down, further shedding of 
blood is obviated by the honorable surrender of the troops in 
the village. With the coming of darkness the field is completely 
won. 

Of the allies that had mustered nearly sixty thousand strong 
that bright morning, only twenty thousand were left upon the 
slopes back of Hochstadt, whither Marsin had led his men. 
Twelve thousand lay on the field dead or wounded, as many 
more were prisoners, and all the artillery, all their tents and 
camp equipage, hundreds of colors and standards, the general- 
in-chief and twelve hundred officers of rank were united in the 
losses sustained by France and Bavaria. Five thousand killed 
and eight thousand wounded, summed up the casualties on the 
side of the confederates, but the fruits of their triumph were 
incalculable. Bloody and desperate as it had been, Blenheim 
was a glorious victory for England — brilliant, decisive, and of 
world-wide importance in its results. The power of Louis 
XIV. was broken. From that time forth he fought only on the 
defensive. The French were driven from the valley of the 
Danube. Ulm, Landau and Treves surrendered to the con- 
federates. Bavaria broke her alliance with France and humbly 
submitted to Austria, and the supremacy of British arms and 
valor was established throughout Europe. Marlborough and 
Prince Eugene became the renowned names of the century, and 
where they fought side by side, no power seemed able to with- 
stand them. 



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1706. 



!0 worthily describe these great battles and cam- 
paigns of Marlborough, a dozen books the 
size of this might well be written. It is neces- 
sary in the space to which we are limited, to 
make only the briefest allusion to some of his 
most brilliant deeds. Blenheim had rid all 
Germany east of the Rhine, of the French 
invaders. Lord Marlborough then turned his 
attention to affairs in Holland, and sent an army up the valley 
of the Moselle to confront the French under Marshal Villars, 
but diplomatic duties with which he was burdened, called him 
for a time, away from the head of the armies, and the sluggish- 
ness of the Dutch delayed his combinations. Sent to Vienna he 
was there created a prince of the empire as a reward for his 
heroic services ; but in 1706 he resumed the direction of mat- 
ters in the field, and on the 23d of May he again attacked and 
defeated a French army in position, winning the spirited battle 
of Ramilies. 

The army of France under Marshal Villeroy occupied in May 
a strong position between Brussels and Namur in mid Belgium. 
The river Dyle covered their front, and Namur on the Meuse, 
which defended their right, was strongly held and fortified. 
Marlborough hoped to surprise the fortress and secure it through 
the agency of one Pasquier, a resident of the city. If he succeeded, 
their line could no longer be held, as he had turned their right flank. 
If they detected his move in time to prevent it, they would be 
compelled to march out from their lines to meet him in front 

(329) 



330 RAMILIES. 

of the Dyle, and a battle in the open country was what he 
needed. 

Lord Marlborough entered upon this campaign in low spirits, 
for numerous harassing complications had occurred ; and though 
he counted on defeating the French, he feared that his Dutch 
allies were not to be thoroughly depended on, and he wanted to 
make the battle decisive. 

On the 1 2th of May, Lord Marlborough arrived at Maestricht 
on the Meuse, forty-five miles northeast of Namur. Here he 
found the Dutch troops awaiting him, but the English were yet 
in march to join. Fifty miles due west lay Brussels, and along 
the Dyle south of west and thirty-five miles away, lay the French 
army. Between the Dyle and the Meuse, in several small 
branches, the river Geete drained the country, flowing northward 
into the Dender. On the largest branch nearly due west of 
Maestricht and some twenty-five miles east of Brussels is the 
little town of Tirlemont. Namur is due south from Tirlemont 
and thirty miles away ; a good road joined them, and this road 
after crossing the river Mehaigne, passes northward through 
several little villages, among them Judoigne on the banks of the 
Geete, and Ramilies out in the open country between the head- 
waters of the Geete and the Mehaigne. 

Ordering his English troops to meet him there, Marlborough 
marched west towards Tirlemont ; and Villeroy took alarm at 
once. He was ordered even to risk a battle in the field with 
Marlborough, rather than let him swoop down upon Namur. 
He had learned, too, that the forces of the confederates were far 
from united, that the Hanoverians were not yet joined, that the 
Danish cavalry had not come at all, and that the English 
were delayed. He promptly recalled Marshal Marsin, who 
had been detached with a large force, and then did just what 
Marlborough hoped and prayed he would do — crossed the 
Dyle and came forward towards Tirlemont, as though to give 
him battle. 

On the 20th the English army reached the camp of Marlbor- 
ough. The Danes were confidently expected on the 22d. The 
forces then at the disposal of the English duke would be 123 



NETHERLANDS' DESTINIES THE ISSUE. 331 

squadrons of horse and 73 battalions of foot. The French had 
128 squadrons and 74 battalions, so that they were nearly evenly 
matched. In round numbers, Marlborough had about 60,000 
mixed troops, against 62,000, mostly Frenchmen. 

Now it began to look as though a decisive battle might be 
fought after all, and Marlborough's spirits rose high at the pros- 
pect. They had been fighting over this very ground the pre- 
vious summer, and he knew it well. 

Villeroy, crossing the west branch or Great Geete, moved 
down towards Judoigne ; and Marlborough, marching in eight 
columns by the left flank, passed around to the head-waters of 
the middle fork or Little Geete. It stormed during the night, 
and the infantry made slow progress ; but Lord Cadogan, who 
had been sent forward with 600 cavalry to reconnoitre, reached 
the uplands of Mierdorp at eight o'clock on the morning 
of May 23d, and from there plainly saw the French columns 
marching across the plateau of Mont St. Andre, five miles west, 
and heading for the Mehaigne, which has a branch running east 
just a couple of miles below Ramilies; and in Ramilies itself one 
of the branches of the Little Geete has its source. 

The battle that is to decide the fate of the Netherlands is soon 
to be fought right here, so it is well to look at the lay of the 
land. Mierdorp, where Cadogan catches his first glimpse of 
the enemy, is a little village on a ridge that runs north and south 
from Wasseige, on the Mehaigne, to Orp le Petit, at the forks 
of the Little Geete, a distance of five miles; and along this ridge 
ran the old line of earth-works built by the French engineers, 
and demolished by Marlborough the previous year. The Me- 
haigne is bordered on the north by a gently sloping range of 
heights, under which, and close to the water's edge, lie in regular 
order from east to west a number of quiet little country ham- 
lets. Supposing ourselves here at Mierdorp, and facing west, we 
look out over a rolling plateau nearly five miles broad, and, on 
the side of the Mehaigne, five miles long. To our left, down 
under the bank and close to the stream, is Wasseige. Two miles 
farther west is Branson, then Boneffe, then Franquinay, then 
Tavier — all within four miles of us. Each has its little bridge 



332 RAMILIES. 

over the Mehaigne ; and from Tavier, around which there is a 
good deal of marshy ground, a road leads up northward over 
the farther end of the plateau, passes beyond the sources of the 
brooks that make up the Little Geete, and so on to Judoigne, 
just visible to the northwest eight miles away, and down in the 
valley of the Great Geete. The first village this cross-road 
strikes after climbing the bluff north of Tavier is that little ham- 
let we can see so plainly four miles away straight in front. That 
is Ramilies. 

Bordered by tall poplars, and parallel with the Mehaigne, the 
high-road runs along the top of the bluffs ; but except these 
trees, which stand like two long ranks of infantry against the 
southern sky, and two little coppices out here to the front, a 
couple of miles away, the plateau is bare of trees. From Rami- 
lies to the northeast, around to our right hand, sweeps a ravine 
that divides the plateau diagonally, and in that ravine trickles 
along the rivulet of the middle Geete. The ground sinks around 
the north of Ramilies, and is marshy at the sources of this stream. 
Then a bold ridge rises from the marsh, juts out northeastward 
two miles or so, and back of that is another ravine. This ridge 
is simply a tongue of land stretching northeastward from the 
middle of the position of St. Andre, as the west end of the 
plateau is called ; but two important hamlets lie there on the 
ridge: one, just north of Ramilies and a mile and a half from it, 
is Offuz, at the base of the tongue ; the other, near our end of 
the tongue and between the two ravines, is Autre-Eglise — And- 
erkirk the Dutchmen call it. A line joining these four hamlets, 
Tavier, Ramilies, Offuz and Anderkirk, forms a great semi- 
circle, with the concavity towards us at Mierdorp, and the centre 
of the circle would be at that first coppice or grove two miles 
out there on the plateau. We stand on the highest ground in 
the neighborhood except one point. Off there to the west, close 
to the high-road and beyond Ramilies, is a high, conical hill, 
all by itself, and the ground slopes up to it around its base. 
They call it the Tomb of Ottomond. 

From where we stand, it looks as though an army in line of 
battle, could march with a front four miles long, square to the 



VILLEROY OVER-CONFIDENT. 333 

west through Ramilies, but it could not ; that ravine this side 
of the ridge of Autre-Eglise and Offuz is deep and marshy, and 
between Ramilies and the end of the ridge there are only three 
points where it can be safely traversed ; country roads are built 
across it from Offuz, Autre-Eglise and the very end itself. Be- 
tween Ramilies and Tavier, to the south, the ground is high and 
unobstructed. 

Such is the battle-field on which Lord Marlborough looks out 
at ten o'clock on the morning of May 23, 1706, and the low fog 
lifting, shows him the army of France going into position over 
beyond the ravines on the position of St. Andre. Our end of 
the plateau is called Jandrinceuil. From ten o'clock until one 
the army of the confederates is occupied in moving up into order 
of battle. In two long lines they now stretch across the plateau, 
facing west from the bank of the Little Geete on our right, down 
to Boneffe on the left. They have a front of nearly four miles, 
and are now two miles west of Mierdorp, where the baggage is 
left — w hat there is of it. Before we go forward to join them let 
us see what disposition Villeroy has made of his command. All 
four villages from Tavier to Autre-Eglise are swarming with in- 
fantry ; long lines of infantry extend along the ridge to Offuz ; 
others from Offuz across the low ground to Ramilies ; then be- 
tween Ramilies and the swamps of the Mehaigne, in two long 
lines of squadrons, with intervals, stand the entire horse of the 
French army; and the hedges and walls of Tavier, and the 
roadside and fields well out to Franquinay, are lined with 
skirmishers. 

The position is undoubtedly formidable, but Villeroy is over- 
confident or he would never have violated one of the first prin- 
ciples in selecting a defensive position. He has formed a deeply 
concave line, and if any part is heavily threatened he has to 
march reinforcements way around the arc while his opponent 
takes the shorter line across. Marlborough sees the error quick 
enough ; sees too that the point he wants to gain is that height 
of the Tomb of Ottomond beyond Ramilies. The experience 
of Blenheim has taught him the futility of attacking infantry in 
stone-walled villages, and he notes with delight that only cavalry 



334 RAMILIES. 

are drawn up across the high ground parallel with the main 
road. His main attack is instantly determined to be against the 
French right, between Ramilies and the river, but he intends to 
make Villeroy believe the opposite. 

To this end he advances his line until the infantry has made 
almost a half wheel to the right, and is now facing and threaten- 
ing Offuz, Autre-Eglise and the ridge between them. Villeroy 
instantly orders a strong division of infantry from Ramilies to 
reinforce his left, and with commendable rapidity it marches the 
mile of distance to Offuz, passes around behind it and soon files 
out on the ridge behind the lines there stationed. This accom- 
plished to the complete satisfaction of Marlborough, and while 
Villeroy is now drawing upon his extreme right for footmen to 
replace those who were thus sent from the centre, an order is 
suddenly given to the two lines of English and German infantry 
to face about and march back to the ridge on which they de- 
ployed originally. They obey, and when the leading one has 
passed over that ridge and is out of sight of the enemy's lines, 
the rearmost rank halts and faces to the front again on the crest, 
while, behind the ridge, the second line marches rapidly over 
towards the high-road where Marlborough is forming his men 
for a grand attack. Even if discovered, it is now too late for 
Villeroy to remedy matters. He has to march way around his 
own line. 

And now at half-past one the attack begins. Marlborough's 
batteries open from our side of the first ravine upon the three 
villages, and the guns of the allies (French and Spanish) respond 
with spirit. The Dutch guards, with two light guns, oblique 
down the slope towards the Mehaigne to drive the skirmishers 
back from Franquinay and to assault Tavier, while General 
Schultz, with twelve battalions, surrounds the walls and hedges 
of Ramilies. 

Prince Eugene is away on other duty, and Marlborough has 
not with him his great colleague. He has instead a brave old 
soldier and a devoted officer in Marshal Overkirk, who now 
leads forward the cavalry in three deep lines, centre resting on 
the high-road, to attack the one hundred squadrons drawn up 




RAMILIES. ATTACK BY LORD CLARE'S IRISH REGIMENT IN THE 
FRENCH SERVICE {J?. Caton Woodville.) 



DUTCH AND GERMAN CAVALRY IN CONFUSION. 335 

across the ground between him and the Tomb of Ottomond. 
Marlborough has determined to win that height, for, from it, he 
can enfilade the whole position of Mont St. Andre. 

And now as the Dutch guards sweep along under the bluffs 
towards Tavier, driving in the skirmishers, Villeroy sees that he 
has been misled. The main attack is coming on his right after 
all. He must hold Tavier at all hazards or these fellows will 
get it and then take him in flank. His spare infantry is now too 
far away, but over there on the ridge beyond the Ottomond 
height are fourteen squadrons of dragoons. He quickly sends 
orders to them to dismount ; leave their horses there with a small 
guard and make their way across the swampy ground into Tavier. 
Two regiments of infantry at the same time hurry down to 
support them. But it is too late. Before they can reach the 
walls the Dutch have driven out the little garrison, and then 
twenty-five squadrons of Danish horse come sweeping down 
the slopes, out to the front, and in a few moments have sabred 
the dismounted dragoons or driven them into the river. Then 
they turn on the Swiss infantry and hack them to pieces. Tavier 
is taken almost without a struggle, and its would-be rein- 
forcements annihilated. 

Even while this brilliant piece of work is going on, Overkirk 
receives orders to charge, and now with all the old enthusiasm 
of Blenheim, but unfortunately without the English dragoons in 
the lead, a gallant array of squadrons rides down upon the 
French. The lines crash together, and the French front line is 
overturned; but the second charges in prompt and spirited form 
upon the Dutch and German horse, throws them into confu- 
sion, and then drives them back upon their supports. The grand 
cavalry attack is a failure so far, and now, while General Schultz 
is. hammering away at the walls of Ramilies with his guns and 
musketry, Lord Marlborough himself, seeing the confusion of 
his cavalry, goes tearing out there with seventeen squadrons 
from the right of our line. They are needed, for our people are 
being driven back, and the Bavarian cuirassiers of the PVench 
army are now charging from behind Ramilies. These Marlbor- 
ough himself meets with his squadrons, drives them back, and 



336 RAMILIES. 

now for half an hour a vehement and rattling sword-fight goes 
on, the duke himself being among the foremost ranks, striving 
to restore order and spirit among the too easily broken cavalry. 
He is speedily recognized by the French dragoons, a dash is 
made to capture him, he is surrounded, and only escapes by 
leaping his horse into a ditch where he is hurled to the ground 
An aide-de-camp supplies him with his own horse, and Colonel 
Bingfield, while holding his stirrup, is shot dead ; but the duke 
escapes, and at this moment twenty fresh squadrons, Britons 
these, come dashing across the plateau from the right, and ride 
in against the left of the enemy's line, while the Danish dragoons 
under the Duke of Wirtemberg, who have already done such 
capital service down in the valley of the Mehaigne, once more 
ride in, facing the French right. The Dutch dragoons make a 
grand rally and charge, and this time weight is against the 
French horse. Both lines go reeling back, and despite all efforts 
of Villeroy, once started, there is no stopping them ; for Marlbor- 
ough's cavalry, British, Dutch, Danish and Hanoverian, thunder 
at their heels. Away they go. The whole plateau of Mont St. 
Andre, back of Ramilies, is one disorderly mass of fugitives. 
Away they go like sheep, past Geest, past Offuz, and out along 
the country roads to the north, now choked with the baggage 
trains. Marlborough promptly seizes the height of Ottomond, the 
object of his great attack, then turns to aid Schultz at the walls of 
Ramilies. It is defended by the Marquis de Maffei, who is 
fighting valiantly, but shot and shell are doing desperate work. 
The Swiss and Bavarian infantry who are with him are worn 
and wavering. The battle has lasted three hours. It is now 
nearly five o'clock, when Schultz, heavily reinforced, makes his 
final dash and forces the garrison out upon the open plain to the 
rear. Here the Swiss and Bavarians are sabred by the cavalry, 
and Maffei is taken prisoner. The French guards have man- 
aged to march off towards Offuz and escape, but Ramilies is 
taken. 

And now Marlborough turns the divisions of Schultz, rein- 
forced by General Wood, against Offuz, while he, with the cav- 
alry, sweeps northward along the plateau to prevent all possi- 



UNERRING JUDGMENT OF MARLBOROUGH. 337 

bility of a rally. It is low swampy ground between Ramilies 
and the foot of the ridge, but the troops are wild with victory 
now and plunge through with absolute merriment, breast the 
slopes at Offuz and rush pell-mell through the enclosures and 
over the ridge only to find the French gone. The entire French 
left has abandoned the ridge. Churchill, Mordaunt, Lumley, 
Hay and Ross, with their foot and horse, rush over the inter- 
vening valley to the assault of Autre-Eglise at the same time 
and with the same result. The dragoons press on in pursuit, 
overtake the celebrated regiment du Roi back of Offuz and com- 
pel its surrender. Out by the farm of Chantrain, way to the 
northwest, the Spanish and Bavarian horse-guards have halted 
and are reformed for a countercharge, but they are dashed upon 
by Wood and Wyndham, and that is the last stand of the French 
army. At the close of day all that is left of it is in disorderly 
flight, and all night long — at least until two in the morning — the 
army of Marlborough streams northward through Judoigne in 
pursuit. The main army finally halts at Meldert, nearly fifteen 
miles away, and the victory of Ramilies is over. 

It was a most surprising, yet most triumphant, victory, and 
was won first by the skillful manoeuvres of the duke, and second 
by his personal and high soldierly bearing on the field. He 
seemed to be everywhere at once. His example was electric ; 
his judgment unerring. Overkirk, too, displayed signal zeal and 
ability, but the victor greatly missed Eugene. 

Most of the French guns, all their baggage, eighty colors and 
standards and great quantities of small arms and equipments 
fell into the hands of the victors, and the losses of the French 
in killed, wounded and prisoners were 13,000, among them sev- 
eral officers of high rank. On the other hand, the army of the 
confederates lost the Prince of Hesse Cassel and 81 officers 
killed and 283 wounded, while of the rank and file 1,066 were 
killed and 2,567 wounded. 

The news was received like that of Blenheim, with the greatest 
exultation in England. The queen again went to the cathedral 
of St. Paul's in great state to render solemn thanks for the vic- 
tory of her arms. Another national thanksgiving was proclaimed 



338 



R'AMILIES. 



and the name of the illustrious general was on every lip. His 
devoted wife was still the confidante of the queen and high in 
power at court, but her imperious temper was soon to sow the 
seeds of discord, and the manyenemies of Marlborough at home 
were incessantly striving to undermine him. For a time Rami- 
lies put a check to their efforts, but only for a time. 

And now France was overthrown in Belgium, as two years 
before she had been on the Rhine. Brussels, Ghent and the 
principal towns of Brabant soon surrendered to Marlborough. 
Ramilies had freed the Netherlands, and the waning power of 
Louis KIV. received another severe blow. 




LOUIS XIV. 




AUSTEIAN GENEBAL AND OFFICES. 

(1760-1775.) 



HUSSAE OFFICEE AND CAVALEY GEENADIEE. 
(PETTSSIA, 1760.) 




POLISH LANCEE AND ABMOBED OAVALEYMAN. OFFICEE AND MUSKETEEE, FEENCH GUAED. 

HISTORIC WAR DRESS. 




OUDENARDE. 

1708. 

UT Louis XIV. had enjoyed unlimited power and 
triumph so many years of his life — was so absolute 
a monarch, that he could not believe himself 
whipped by the confederates. Experience was to 
teach him a bitter lesson. Soon after the disaster 
of Ramilies his grandson, Philip V., came reeling 
back into France from Spain, where Lord Peter- 
borough had almost demolished his army in front 
of Barcelona. The Spanish Netherlands were gone. 
Spain itself was almost crushed. Then Antwerp and Ostend 
fell before Marlborough. It seemed as though Louis XIV. 
were tottering on his throne. 

But dissensions among the confederates in the Low Countries, 
intrigues and cabals at home, and his renewed employment in 
settling important diplomatic affairs, checked Lord Marlborough 
at the moment when he could and would have carried the war 
into France. Over a year was lost in senseless hesitation and 
delay, for which he was in no way responsible. The French re- 
organized their armies on the northeastern frontier, and in the 
spring of 1708 Marlborough and Eugene, once more united, 
were called upon to meet a formidable force of French bent on 
the recapture of the lost cities of Belgium. Their plan was a 
good one. They were afraid to meet the army of Marlborough 
on even terms in the field, but had bethought themselves of a 
feasible project for robbing him of all the fruits of his conquests 
of 1706. All the cities of the Netherlands were disgusted with 
the oppressions of the Dutch, their new masters, and the 
people were only too ready to co-operate with the French. It 

(339) 



340 OUDENARDE. 

was resolved therefore to surprise the citadels of Bruges and 
Ghent, and to capture Oudenarde, an important fortified town 
on the Scheldt, about twenty-eight miles southwest from Ghent. 
So far as Bruges and Ghent were concerned the plan worked to 
a charm. Both surrendered without a shot, for the garrisons 
were Flemings and Walloons, or Dutch ; and Marlborough was 
far in the interior, beyond Brussels, near the old field of Rami- 
lies, waiting for Eugene who was coming from Maestricht. 

The French, on July 9th, laid siege to Oudenarde, then held 
by General Chanclos, and, to "cover the siege" and delay Marl- 
borough's move to the rescue, they attempted to seize the left 
bank of the river Dender and hold it against his crossing. 

But Marlborough was quicker than they. Eugene had gal- 
loped forward to join him, and together they crossed the Dender 
and the French recoiled behind Oudenarde and the Scheldt. 

All around Oudenarde the country lies in low, gentle undu- 
lations. The valley is wide ; the ground is thoroughly culti- 
vated; corn on the uplands; flax, clover, buckwheat and peas on 
the lower. Only on the few steep acclivities are woods to be 
found. Over towards Courtray to the west, and up the Scheldt 
towards the frontiers of France, there are or were forests, but 
around Oudenarde it was nearly all open. Low hedges divided 
the fields but there was nothing to impede the march of troops, 
even of artillery, and, by a strange contradiction, artillery was 
the one thing lacking in the sharp battle which took place at 
this point. Oudenarde was an infantry and cavalry fight. The 
river runs about northeast through the queer old Dutch town, 
then sweeps around towards the north. One or two castles and 
an old abbey were, with those inevitable windmills, the features 
of the rather uninteresting scenery. Marshes bounded both sides 
of the stream, but north of Oudenarde the ground rose ; two 
little streams cut through the rise and reached the Scheldt a 
mile or so northeast of the town, and a larger creek, flowing 
nearly east, and bounded north and south by sloping banks, in- 
tersected this low plateau three miles north of the town. It was 
called the Norken, and between this stream and the walls of the 
city the battle of Oudenarde took place. 



THE FRENCH OUT-MANCEUVRED. 34 \ 

The French had determined, it has been said, to hold Marl- 
borough east of the Dender while they invested the town, but 
before they could get their guns in position, Cadogan — he who 
led the advance at Ramilies — was crossing the stream six miles 
south of them and their position was " turned." Amazed at 
such rapid moves, even of Marlborough, the French com- 
manders decided that now they must get across the Scheldt, 
near Oudenarde, and confront him there. For this purpose 
their columns were directed on Gavre, six miles northeast of 
Oudenarde, where bridges were already thrown across ; and 
about half-past ten on the sultry morning of the nth of July, 
their advance, under the Marquis de Biron, passed quietly over 
and moved up the slopes of the Norken, sending out foragers 
right and left. Behind him, in leisurely march, came the entire 
French army. Despite the lesson of the Dender it did not seem 
to occur to these leaders of Louis XIV. that Marlborough might 
teach them another, and beat them to the commanding ground 
across the Scheldt. Had Turenne, Conde, or even unlucky 
Villeroy, been at their head, there would have been less delibera- 
tion and far more energy of movement. The Duke of Vendome, 
one of their chiefs, was a fine soldier, but all his efforts were 
clogged by the Duke of Burgundy, whose rank carried with it 
supreme command, and both on the march and in the battle that 
followed, his fatuity brought about grave consequences. At the 
very moment when de Biron with his advance was lounging 
about the bridges at Gavre, Cadogan, eager, rapid and impetu- 
ous, was urging his men to the completion of the four bridges 
he had to throw across just below Oudenarde, and then out he 
went, he and his light horse, and at twelve o'clock the foraging 
parties of the French, plundering among the villages on the 
plateau, were confounded by the sight of the British standards 
on the opposite slopes. The largest village, Heurne, lay on the 
west bank of the Scheldt, two miles below Oudenarde, well up 
on the slopes, with a broad plain behind and on each side of it 
— a plain that stretched another two miles northward, where it 
came to a point between the Norken and the Scheldt, just above 
the French bridges at Gavre. 



342 OUDENARDE. 

Cadogan's advance was composed of eight squadrons of light 
horse and sixteen battalions of foot, with good field-artillery. 
The cavalry were mainly Hanoverians ; the artillery had not 
come up, thanks to heavy roads, but Cadogan never hesitated. 
He swung his two brigades of infantry into position, facing north- 
east, on the slopes beyond Oudenarde and dashed in at the head 
of his squadrons, forded the little stream that cut the plateau in 
half, rode, cheering, through the village of Eyne on its north 
bank, whirling the foragers before him up the slopes to the plain 
of Heurne, and never drew rein until he had chased them to its 
extreme point and found himself charged in turn by de Biron 
with a much larger force, before which Cadogan retired in good; 
order. De Biron pursued until he reached the bluffs above 
Eyne and there came in sight of the brigades of infantry in line 
of battle, the pontoon bridges down behind them on the Scheldt, 
and the huge clouds of dust rising skyward behind Oudenarde. 
In utter amazement he realized that the whole army of the con- 
federates was within gunshot of the plateau, and his own people 
not within supporting distance. Promptly sending back word" 
to Gavre of the approach of the troops of Marlborough, and the. 
presence of their advance, he gallantly stood to his ground and 
seized the little village of Eyne with the intention of fortifying. 
And at that very moment Marlborough and Eugene arrived at 
full gallop at the bridges. 

The French were thunderstruck by the news ; Vendome alone 
seems to have formed a just estimate of the situation. He 
judged by the distance of the dust-clouds that only the advance 
of the confederates had crossed the Scheldt, and that by prompt 
action it could be overwhelmed and crushed before the main 
army could reach Oudenarde. Fine soldier that he was, Ven- 
dome lost not an instant. Seven strong battalions of Swiss in- 
fantry were thrown forward to occupy the village of Heurne, 
while all his divisions of foot and horse were directed to march 
southward with the view of forming line of battle parallel to, and 
facing the Scheldt along the plateau itself. It would have been 
a very easy matter for him by one o'clock, or two at the latest, 
to dash upon Cadogan and his comrade Rantzau, hurl them 



BURGUNDY COUNTERMANDS VENDOME'S ORDERS 34} 

back on the river and seize and break up the pontoons, for, be- 
sides the advance, only the confederate cavalry was in sight at 



noon. 



Already his infantry was marching out upon the plateau, and 
General Pfeffer with the seven battalions of Swiss had gone, not 
into Heurne, but, by some mistake in name, beyond it a full 
mile, and was now loopholing the walls of Eyne, which Biron 
had so recently seized. Already Cadogan and Rantzau saw 
their position threatened and began to cast anxious glances to- 
wards Oudenarde and the coming reinforcements ; already Marl- 
borough and Eugene, marking the massive advance of Vendome's 
columns along the opposite plateau, were trembling with appre- 
hension for their advance, if such men ever did tremble, when 
suddenly the heads of their own columns appeared, some cross- 
ing the heights of Edelaere, behind them, some winding around 
the southern base between the heights and Oudenarde, and at 
the same instant the French divisions sheered off to the north, 
and, by a rapid movement to their right flank, began the descent 
into the ravine of the Norken. To the rage of Vendome, to the 
wonderment of Marlborough, and the unmixed delight of him- 
self and Eugene, the faint-hearted Duke of Burgundy had coun- 
termanded Vendome's orders— abandoned the whole plateau, 
and was falling back to the line of low heights behind the Nor- 
ken, marked by the villages of Lede and Huysse. They had 
left poor Pfeffer with his Swiss division all alone out there in 
Eyne under the plateau. 

Marlborough was not the man to let slip such a chance. Al- 
ready his cavalry was crossing the bridges, and by three o'clock 
the head of the infantry columns began to arrive. The one 
battery that had managed to struggle forward with the horsemen 
was posted on the slopes commanding the ground towards the 
village of Diepenbeck, which stands on a portion of the plateau, 
shaped for all the world like an inverted, old-fashioned, circular 
tin pan, the two branches of the stream that drain the plateau 
having scooped out semi-circular troughs for themselves around 
it, and then, meeting on the east side, rippled off towards the 
Scheldt. This flat-topped, circular mound is about a mile across, 



341 OUDENARDE. 

with Diepenbeck on its eastern edge, the Oudenarde side, and it 
must be noted well. That mound is to be the vortex of the 
battle. 

The moment the infantry came up, Cadogan's brigade of foot 
left to guard the bridges was relieved and sent across t© join 
him. At three o'clock he had there twelve battalions of mus- 
keteers, and Rantzau's Hanoverian dragoons, and there was 
Pfeffer with his seven battalions of Swiss, backed by a few of de 
Biron's horse, utterly isolated, abandoned by the blundering 
stupidity of the French duke. The sight was enough for any 
soldier. Cadogan swooped down with his whole force, Sabine's 
brigade of British infantry in front, while Rantzau's horse splashed 
through the rivulet higher up to take the position " in reverse." 
The fight was sharp, short and bloody. Twelve battalions, eight 
of them English, were too heavy metal for the Swiss even be- 
hind loopholed walls. They were soon driven out; Pfeffer and 
three battalions were taken prisoners on the spot; the rest, at- 
tempting to retreat across the plateau towards the Norken, were 
surrounded, shot or sabred, and a number more taken prisoners 
out near the old windmill. The French cavalry, far from coming 
to their aid, attempted to slink off towards their supports, but 
were charged by Rantzau, driven pell-mell across the Norken 
and up among their own comrades on the other side, and yet 
Rantzau and most of his troopers came back unharmed, with 
twelve standards and a French colonel among their trophies. 

Several distinguished nobles charged with Rantzau in this 
gallant little affair — among them the electoral Prince of Han- 
over, afterwards George II. of England, and Count Lusky, who 
was killed. 

Now it seemed to the French generals that something had to 
be done. Anything more lamentable than the manoeuvres of 
the Duke of Burgundy thus far can hardly be conceived, and 
yet, spurred to action of some kind by the furious arguments 
of his generals, who were overcome with rage and mortification 
at the disgrace which had attended them so far, he dccirlcd to 
fight at once, and therein made a bigger blunder than he had 
before. 



RENEWED BLUNDERING OF THE FRENCH COMMANDER. 345 

He had sacrificed Pfeffer and the plateau in order to gain a 
strong position behind the Norken. He was now in that posi- 
tion, and there was little likelihood of Marlborough's attacking 
him before the next day, for the latter's army had marched 
fifteen miles and was much fatigued, and in no condition to as- 
sault an enemy posted as the French were now posted. If they 
did attack that evening, the chances were vastly in favor of their 
being whipped. If they did not, then the French would have 
twelve hours or more, in which to strengthen their ground, and 
the morrow would be the more likely to bring them victory. 

But the hot-headed Frenchmen clamored for instant battle, 
and, yielding to their demands, the duke weakly decided to at- 
tack, and in so doing he came down from his strong line, re- 
crossed the Norken in front of Marlborough's forming divisions, 
and proceeded to grapple with him on equal terms, on the very 
ground he had abandoned an hour earlier. 

He had made heavy sacrifices to abandon that position for a 
better; now he proposed to make still heavier sacrifices to regain 
it. All this irresolution, confusion and change of purpose was 
plain to the keen sight of Marlborough and Eugene, now seated 
in their saddles on the low bluffs just opposite Eyne, and they 
were in blithe spirits over the prospect. 

As yet Marlborough's infantry was not in line; some of the 
divisions were still crossing the bridges, but fast as they came 
up they moved up the slopes near the hamlet of Bevere, and out 
towards the castle of the same name, where they extended their 
lines to the left, and halted, facing north along the slope of the 
rivulet which flowed between them and the circular mound of 
Diepenbeck. Nearly all the French cavalry were drawn up 
across the Norken on the west end of their line, and from this, 
their right wing, the duke ordered the first movement. Grimaldi 
with sixteen squadrons swept down across the stream and 
forward towards Diepenbeck to " feel " the British position, but 
at sight of the silent lines of infantry a mile away, he concluded 
to come no farther, but halted at the mill of Hoyegem, over on 
the second plateau. However, enough had occurred to lead 
Marlborough to see that the French meant to attack speedily, 



346 OUDENARDE. 

so he himself rapidly crossed the little stream at the head of the 
Prussian horse, and placed it, facing the enemy on the plain, back 
of Heurne in support of Cadogan, where twelve battalions were 
thrown forward into the hedges of Grcenevelde directly in front 
of the French centre. Even as the cavalry were trotting into 
position, the French right centre quickly advanced down the 
slopes of the Norken, crossed the farther plateau on which 
Grimaldi had halted, dipped down again into the circular ravine 
which swept around the plateau of Diepenbeck, and then came 
gallantly down upon Cadogan's advance in the hedges. These 
were the best troops of the French line, thirty battalions of 
French and Swiss guards, and the chosen brigades " du Roi," 
Picardy and Royal Roussillon; but Cadogan stuck to his hedges 
like a bull-dog, yielding not an inch of ground until the Duke 
of Argyll, general of the British infantry, hurried forward to 
his support with twenty battalions, and then the combined com- 
mands proved too strong for the Frenchmen; they fell back 
across the rivulet, and formed on the slope of the Diepenbeck 
plateau, their front following the course of the stream and show- 
ing a complete semi-circle with the convex side toward the Eng- 
lish ; and now Cadogan lapped around towards the French left 
with his own flank dangerously threatened by attack across the 
Norken, while Argyll swung completely around from their cen- 
tre to their right, and thus it happened that the mound of Die- 
penbeck became the vortex of the fight. The French sprang 
forward to reinforce their advance, the English and their allies 
swept on to sustain Cadogan and Argyll, and after half an hour's 
desperate grapple the French found themselves bent backward 
into a circular line of battle around the plateau of Diepenbeck 
as a centre, while across the rivulet which marked their front, 
strong lines of confederate infantry closely invested them. 

It was six o'clock. Marlborough and Eugene, who had hith- 
erto been watching and directing the conflict from the plateau 
back of Heurne, now separated — Eugene being assigned to the 
high honor of commanding all the right wing where the British 
infantry and most of the British cavalry were fighting, while 
Marlborough galloped back across the stream to direct opera- 



FURIOUS CHARGING AND COUNTER-CHARGING. 34V 

tions on his own centre and left. Here, with their backs to- 
wards Oudenarde and facing Diepenbeck, the Prussians and 
Hanoverians were stoutly engaged with the dense masses of the 
French ; but the heaviest fighting was still going on over to the 
north and eastern sides of the central mound, and thither Marl- 
borough sent most of his infantry. 

Thus it happened that Eugene had some sixty battalions at his 
disposal, w bile his comrade had but twenty. Meantime, of 
course, the whole left wing of the French had crossed the 
Norken and thrown itself on Prince Eugene; and Cadogan, well 
out to the front, was now assailed front, right and rear, and had 
to drop the hedges near Herlehem whither he had worked his 
way, and face this new attack. Then on his right there came to 
support him a grand charge of Prussian cuirassiers, led by 
General Natzmer, which broke the first line of Vendome and 
sent many of his battalions scurrying down into the ravine of 
the Norken, whence they rallied, however, and swept the 
squadrons with a heavy fire of musketry that emptied dozens of 
saddles, and, being charged in turn by the French household 
cavalry and himself severely wounded, Natzmer had to retreat 
with considerable loss ; but he had saved Cadogan, and when 
Vendome again urged forward his footmen, the British were 
ready and received them with a withering volley that drove them 
again to cover. 

Meantime Marlborough, with the Hanoverian and Dutch in- 
fantry back of Oudenarde, charged the French lines along the 
rivulet, drove them up the reverse slope, and were now slowly but 
surely creeping forward and more closely penning them in. But 
the French line extended some distance southwestward, toward 
the higher ground around the mill and village of Oycke which 
overlooked the plateau of Diepenbeck. Had they occupied this 
high ground the French would have commanded the field 
within range of their guns, but the only real soldierly general of 
their army was far to the other side. The Duke of Burgundy 
never seemed to see it, and the chance was lost. 

Old Marshal Overkirk, who had brought up the rear with 
twenty battalions of Dutch and Danish infantry and a large 



348 OUDENARDE. 

body of cavalry, had just crossed the bridges and was deploying 
upon the extreme left of Marlborough's line. It was after six 
o'clock, but there was still time. Half an hour's sharp marching 
would gain the plateau of Oycke, then he could wheel to the 
right, and the right wing of the French would be immediately 
under him. Marlborough lost not a moment. He galloped 
over to where the old German soldier was deploying his lines, 
pointed out the position, quickly explained the great advantage 
to be gained, and then as quickly gave his orders. He had a 
noble subordinate in the veteran marshal. The latter saw 
through the plan at a glance, and sent in his right division to 
sweep the enemy out of the ravine near the castle of Bevere, 
which was accomplished after a short and bloody struggle. 
Then his centre and left divisions, supported by the cavalry, 
moved up on the plateau of Oycke, and then, finding no enemy 
there, " changed front forward on the right " — a movement which 
brought them at right angles to their old line, and enveloping 
and enfilading the right flank of the French. It was the deci- 
sive move of the battle. The army of the confederates now 
formed one vast semi-circle around the right wing of the French, 
and the latter could look for nothing but surrender or annihila- 
tion. 

Vendome, commanding the French left wing along the Nor- 
ken, now made a desperate effort to cut his way through to the 
rescue of the surrounded right. Dismounting from his horse he 
led forward his lines, and fell again upon Cadogan with his right 
brigade, while the rest of his wing confronted Prince Eugene and 
the long, serried ranks of British squadrons on the plateau. 
The attempt was fruitless. His men were disheartened at the 
utter inefficiency of their leaders when compared with those of 
the confederates. Cadogan was as solid in his position as before, 
and the rest of the line, seeing the cavalry of Eugene preparing 
to charge, could not be induced to advance another step. In 
bitter humiliation Vendome saw his wing recoil before the mere 
threat of attack, and once more take refuge in the ravine. 
Ordering his cavalry to hold them there and to charge if a 
single battalion again attempted to show front on the plain, Eu- 




OUDENARDE, THE ELECTOR OF HANOVER, AFTERWARDS GEORGE II. 
LEADING HIS SQUADRON INTO ACTION. (Jt. Caton Woodville.) 



THE LAST HOPE OF BURGUNDY GONE. 349 

gene galloped in toward his left, to complete the encircling of the 
French right wing. Cadogan's division, having shaken off the 
assault of Vendome's right, and being assured that no further 
molestation need be feared from them, now changed front for- 
ward to the left and lapped completely around the northeastern 
front of the plateau of Diepenbeck. It was growing dark, and 
the ruddy flashes of the musketry alone served to determine the 
position of the contending lines. Still the French fought gal- 
lantly, desperately, hoping to be extricated from the trap. 

It must have been nearly eight o'clock when Prince Eugene 
and his staff officers caught sight of dark masses descending the 
slopes a mile away towards Oycke, and coming down on the rear 
of the French foot and on the right flank of the French house- 
hold troops and dragoons who were still watching the conflict from 
their halting-place beyond the mill of Hoyegem. And when it was 
so dark that they could not tell whether the advancing lines were 
friends or foes, the prince and his officers were greeted by the 
stirring sound of volleys from the west, and in a few moments 
more the crest of Hoyegem was all in a glare with the rapid 
flashes of their musketry. Away went the dragoons and house- 
hold cavalry of France. Taken in flank and rear by advanc- 
ing lines of disciplined infantry, they were thrown into confusion. 
Some galloped back to the ravine of the Norken. Some pushed 
forward into the centre of the narrowing circle on the plateau of 
Diepenbeck. The last hope of the Duke of Burgundy was 
gone. Old Marshal Overkirk, after changing front to his right 
on the plain of Oycke, had thrown forward Count Tilly and the 
Prince of Nassau with a strong force of infantry and cavalry to 
descend to the plateau behind that of Diepenbeck, sweep away 
the cavalry drawn up at the mill of Hoyegem, and then assault 
the French rear on the circular plateau. Completely surrounded 
now, nothing but darkness saved the French right wing from 
annihilation. Fearful that, as his own right and Overkirk's left 
were now in juxtaposition, they might mistake one another for 
enemies, Eugene caused his own lines to halt and cease firing, 
and this being imitated by Overkirk, the battle practically ended 
here. 



350 OUDENARDE. 

It was nine o'clock. The carnage on the French side around 
Diepenbeck had been terrible, and the confederates had also lost 
heavily. But now in the darkness some nine thousand of the 
French managed to slip away towards the south through the 
dark ravine by the castle of Bevere, and by marching all night 
these stragglers made their way to the frontiers of France. 
Others too, in knots of four or five, succeeded in crawling back 
towards the Norken, but these were trifling in comparison with 
the numbers that remained dead, wounded or hemmed in on 
that bloody circle. 

And now, at ten o'clock at night, the Duke of Burgundy with 
a retinue of panic-stricken generals stood in the village of 
Huysse listening to the tales of disaster and ruin that met him 
every moment. Here he was joined by Vendome, who strove 
to induce his superior to issue orders reorganizing his demoral- 
ized forces, and conduct an orderly retreat, but the duke would 
do nothing. He was completely whipped and thought of only 
the quickest way to get to a place of safety. With some few 
battalions and squadrons Vendome wearily faced the foe, and in 
deep disgust strove to cover the flight of his countrymen, who, 
generals and privates alike, broke for Ghent in wildest disorder. 
The battle of Oudenarde was the most crushing blow yet ad- 
ministered to the armies of Louis XIV., for hardly a brigade was 
left with the colors when morning dawned upon the scene. 

Marlborough and Eugene bivouacked on the field, closely 
guarding the plateau, and at the first break of day proceeded to 
count their gains. Four thousand Frenchmen lay dead along 
that gory semicircle, and eleven thousand, wounded and prison- 
ers, still remained to fall into the hands of the confederates. 
Seven fine regiments of dragoons in the centre of the plateau 
surrendered their standards as they stood among the corpses of 
their comrades and their slaughtered horses. Seven hundred 
officers gave up their swords. No guns are reported taken, as 
those of the French too were left east of the Scheldt, but, while 
the confederates had lost only 3,000 killed and wounded, the 
army of Burgundy and Vendome was literally pounded to pieces. 
Indeed, as the duke wrote at the time, could they have had three 



THE KING OF FRANCE PROPOSES PEACE. 351 

hours more of daylight, there would have been an end to the 
war. 

Even as it was, King Louis made proposals of peace. He had 
had more than enough of fighting against such men as Marlbor- 
ough and Eugene. The enmity of the latter was something he 
bitterly regretted, for though called Prince Eugene of Savoy, 
this brilliant soldier was a Frenchman, a Parisian by birth, and 
had years before offered his services to his king, was refused a 
commission, and so took service in Austria, where he soon rose 
to high command and distinction. Then King Louis strove to 
recall him to France, but he declined to give up his commission 
in the service which had warmly received him and borne him to 
such great success. Sentence of exile was then passed upon 
him, and Eugene became a Savoyard, as being the nearest thing 
to a Frenchman. He and Vendome were own cousins. 

Marlborough's grand success at Oudenarde led to further 
rejoicings, festivity and public thanksgiving in England, but 
bitter enemies were still at work against him, and the imperious 
temper and tongue of his wife were stirring up incessant discord 
at the court, where her majesty the queen found that the exac- 
tions and domineering ways of the friend of her youth were 
plunging her into deeper entanglements all the time. Lady 
Marlborough's influence at home was on the wane, and even the 
unlimited successes of the great captain of his day could not 
save him from court jealousy and intrigue. England began to 
fail him in the support he needed. The terms proposed by the 
King of France were not accepted, and the war went grimly on. 

An unusual feature of Marlborough's great battles" was that, 
in point of numbers engaged, the contending armies were gen- 
erally very evenly matched. It was the case as we have seen at 
Blenheim and Ramilies. Here again at Oudenarde about 60,000 
men came into action on each side, and at the most bloody and 
hard fought of all, the memorable fight of Malplaquet, in the 
following year, each army brought 100,000 men into line. As 
a battle Malplaquet is perhaps more deserving of description 
than Ramilies or Oudenarde, for the forces there engaged were 
much larger, and much more brilliantly led than before, but it 



352 OUDENARDE. 

was utterly indecisive in its results ; it was won by hard pound- 
ing at an almost impenetrable position; it involved a terrible 
sacrifice of life and limb, and for no purpose whatever. Marl- 
borough and Eugene only succeeded in forcing the French to 
fall back in good order a few miles, at a cost of 20,000 killed 
and wounded; while at the highest estimate only 14,000 men 
can be claimed as the total loss, including prisoners, of the 
French. Malplaquet was a fruitless slaughter, and though a 
tactical victory could be claimed for the arms of the confederates, 
it is certain that it did them more harm than good. At home 
the outcries against Marlborough broke forth afresh. He was 
accused of peculation and disloyalty, and although the French 
now yielded to him the palm of invincibility, it was only in the 
field. He never fought a battle that he did not win, never laid 
siege to a city that he did not conquer, never met a leader in 
the ranks of war whom he did not overthrow. His last cam 
paign of 171 1 was perhaps the most brilliantly conducted of hi.- - 
career, and yet soon thereafter Marlborough left England a 
voluntary exile. He could not triumph over enemies at home 
whose battles he was fighting at the front. Distinguished as 
courtier and statesman as he was as soldier, and though a faith- 
ful husband and devoted father, the great duke had grave faults, 
which historians and writers, notably Macaulay and Thackeray, 
have not failed to fully describe. We deal with him only as the 
soldier, and as a soldier he had no superior. 



LEUTHEN. 




1757- 

EXT among the great generals came Frederick 
II. of Prussia, justly termed Frederick the 
Great. The death of his harsh old father 
brought him to the throne on the 31st of 
May, 1740, and he who had hated military 
duty in his youth, had loved music and litera- 
ture, had loved extravagance to the verge of 
foppery in dress, suddenly found himself King 
of Prussia. He sprang to the head of the finest army in the world 
in point of discipline and efficiency, though small in numbers, 
and found himself called upon to defend his frontiers on every 
side from powerful and bitter foes. Six months after his acces- 
sion he clashed with Austria for the possession of Silesia, which 
his people claimed as Prussian territory, and from that hour 
almost to the end of his eventful life, Frederick the Great was in- 
volved in desperate and almost incessant warfare. 

The eighteenth century brought forth more brilliant soldiers 
in Europe than have been found in the whole world in any other 
hundred years. Marlborough and Prince Eugene were in their 
prime when it opened; Charles XII. of Sweden was still the 
amazement of Christendom, though his star soon waned at Pul- 
towa, and now, all* over the continent there seemed to spring into 
vigorous life more than a score of younger generals of all na- 
tions. In the campaigns from 1740 to the close of the century 
we find them everywhere. From a soldier standpoint we might 
mark off that century into right, centre and left, and assign its 
chief to each, or divide it into three epochs — those of its three 
greatest soldiers : 1st. Its beginning; 2d. Its middle ; 3d. Its end, 

(853) 



354 LEUTHEN. 

and in the ascending scale of greatness place them where they 
stood in order of time — Marlborough, then Frederick the Great, 
then, greatest of all, Napoleon. 

We have come to the middle of the century, and for twenty 
years no name rivalled that of Frederick II. of Prussia; and no 
war, for brilliant moves, rapid combinations, desperate, sanguin- 
ary and thrilling battles, compared in interest with that on which 
we now enter, The Seven Years' War. 

Fought originally for the sake of Silesia, it became the fiercest, 
as it was the last of the three great struggles for that province. 
Austria demanded Silesia as her right, Russia, through the 
Empress Elizabeth, hated Frederick, and was willing to help. 
The Elector of Saxony and King of Poland had grievances of 
some kind against Prussia, and weak, woman-led Louis XV. of 
France was glad enough to do anything the reigning favorite, 
Madame Pompadour, demanded. She, too, hated Prussia, and 
before he knew it King Frederick found himself absolutely en- 
circled by enemies. No one but England would lend him a 
helping hand. All Europe was jealous of his almost perfect 
army, and so the cordon was woven round him — east, south and 
west — only northward was he unassailed, and so it resulted that 
the armies of this great coalition became known as, and fre- 
quently termed, " The Armies of the Circle." Never before, 
never since, had the sturdy German kingdom such odds against 
her. Could they attack all at once, or on all sides at once, Prus- 
sia was ruined. But it took time to get troops upon her bor- 
ders, and Frederick jumped at the chance. He would beat them 
in detail. 

Saxony lay nearest, and the first of the seven campaigns of 
the Seven Years' War began August, 1756. Prussia pounced 0/1 
Dresden, the Saxon capital, whipped back Austria when she 
came to the rescue, and turned the Saxon soldiers into Prussians 
forthwith. So far Frederick was way ahead, but, being com- 
pelled to winter in Saxony and Silesia in order to hold them, he 
and his armies were far to the south. Then Sweden concluded 
to attempt to reconquer Pomerania, Prussia's north borderer, and 
so joined the circle, hemming in the east half of her northern 



IMMENSE ODDS AGAINST FREDERICK. 355 

front, and now at the opening of the spring campaign of 1757 
the Armies of the Circle numbered 430,000, against Frederick's 
total of 260,000 (British and Hanoverians included). He was 
no whit dismayed. He had the great military advantage of mov- 
ing on interior lines while the allies hammered at him at differ- 
ent points of the big circle. He had faith in his combinations, 
and for seventeen years he had been studying and practising war 
as faithfully as he had previously clung to his flute. 

He darted first upon the Austrians and wofully whipped them 
at Prague, though it cost him 18,000 men, killed and wounded, 
to do it, and the Austrians suffered only 1,000 more. But then 
a new Austrian army under a splendid soldier, Daun, one of the 
brilliant galaxy that made the century famous, drove Frederick 
back in turn, beating him fairly at Kolin ; and the French under 
their fine leader, D'Estrees, punished the English and Hanover- 
ians, so that the second year of the war looked black for 
Prussia. 

But Frederick, now threatened by another French army in 
Saxony, together with a large force of Imperialists, bade his out- 
posts stand firm. He himself led a rapid march against the new 
attack, and on November 5th administered a crushing blow at 
Rossbach, one of his best fights (it would take ten volumes of 
this size to tell them all), and then, just one month after, just 
when it seemed as though there were not an earthly hope left 
for him or Prussia, he turned back like a lion on the swarming 
foe in Silesia, and on December 5th, fought and won his great- 
est and most astonishing battle, Leuthen, otherwise known as 
Lissa. 

Premising that the great master of the art of war, Napoleon, 
says of this battle : " It is a masterpiece of movements, of man- 
oeuvres, and of resolution ; enough to immortalize Frederick, and 
rank him among the greatest generals," let us, as best we may, 
lay before the reader its story. 

With more than 80,000 Austrians at his back, Prince Charles 
of Lorraine, the favored general of his empress, has pushed 
northward through Silesia, whipped out the small Prussian gar- 
risons, winning town after town, fort after fort, arms, stores and 



356 LEUTHEN. 

guns ; has at last reached and conquered the city of Breslau, with 
Count Bevern, its luckless chief, and its large garrison and arma- 
ment ; thence, flushed with triumph and delight, he sends his 
proud message to Vienna — "All Silesia is now regained to your 
majesty ; " and here he learns with utter amaze and incredulity 
that Frederick is hastening by forced marches, and with only 
such troops as he can hurriedly pick up on the way, to give him 
battle. It is the end of November; the weather is gloomy and 
threatening, yet in the Austrian camps around Breslau all is 
jollity and confidence. The story goes among the officers at 
mess, among the men at the canteens. " What ! Fritz with his 
Potsdammers advancing on us ? — Bosh ! " Even should he dare 
come, what more could they ask? He might scrape up 30,000 
men from the shattered, scattered fragments of his armies, and 
they — they had full 90,000 here around Breslau. They had 
whipped the Prussians all through Silesia for three months past. 
" Let him come — he's as mad as his old father." 

He is coming, sure enough, and what is more has " turned " 
the line at Liegnitz, where lay a strong Austrian force thrown 
forward by Prince Charles to hold him in check, and now, 
December 2d, he is close under the banks of the Oder at 
Parchwitz, only two days march away, waiting only for Ziethen, 
staunch old Hussar-leading Ziethen. He has come way round 
in a big circle from Rossbach across the Saale; starting with 
only 13,000 men, quick as marching could make it, he has 
swung through Leipsic and Torgau and Bautzen, 200 miles on 
a bee-line, 250 the way he had to come — he is here in front of 
Breslau. > 

Prince Charles is fairly mad with joy. Right here before 
him, with only 25,000 or 30,000 men at the utmost, is the arch 
enemy of his beloved empress. He with his army occupies a 
strong position facing west, covering Breslau. He has the forti- 
fications of the city behind him. Before him lies the " Schweid- 
nitz Water," so easily defensible. He has nearly 90,000 men, 
and Frederick proposes coming to whip him out. An additional, 
an inevitable triumph lies in his grasp, and in his impatience he 
takes the step that robs him of it all — aye, even of all he has 



GENERAL DAUN OVERRULED. 357 

won before. He cannot wait for Frederick: he must move out, 
fall upon and crush him. 

But he hears of expostulation and demur among some of his 
generals who see no reason for giving up their ready defences to 
try an issue in open field. He summons a council, and there 
speaks General Daun, his second in command, the Daun who 
had fought Frederick before, knew him well, and knew him 
too well to throw away chances. "Why move out?" said Daun. 
" Let him assault us here, and we will crush him." 

But Daun had been superseded by Prince Charles. Daun 
might be jealous, thought the Prince and the Prince's satellites. 
Some kw old war-dogs growled their approval of Daun's argu- 
ments, but there were ail the eager young bloods, all the chivalry 
of the empire against him. Lucchesi spoke up in vehement 
advocacy of the advance : " Forward," he urged. " We can- 
not fail; we have won Silesia. Now let us finish him and the 
war with him," and eager Lucchesi carried the convention by 
storm. Daun was overcome, the advance was sounded, Lucchesi 
won, and paid for it with his life. Frederick " finished him " 
two days after at Leuthen ; fooled him first and killed him after- 
wards. 

And so, for the first time on record, the Austrians marched 
forward to open battle with Frederick. They never tried it 
again. 

Twelve or fifteen miles west of Breslau lies a low ridge run- 
ing north and south across the highway; not much of a ridge 
either. There are no real hills anywhere in that part of the 
country. There are knobs and knolls and waves of ground, and 
low swamps, and scrubby patches of woods, and numbers of 
stoutly built little hamlets. Six or seven of these are in sight 
from the point where the highway crosses this low ridge, and 
right here Prince Charles is met by startling news. Twelve 
miles farther west lies the town of Neumarkt. He had sent 
forward to that point his army bakery, his bakers, a few quarter- 
masters, and a reasonably good-sized guard. Their orders were 
to set up the bakery at Neumarkt, and have 80,000 rations of 
fresh loaves in readiness for his epicurean soldiery when they 



358 LEUTHEN. 

got there next day. The news was that Frederick had got there 
first, and with much gusto had swallowed up his bakery, bak- 
ings, bakers, guards and all, and was coming ahead as though 
only too ready to swallow everything he encountered. It was 
here that General Daun is reported to have originated a query 
that has since become a household word : " Didn't I tell you so ? " 

Then arose the question, What was to be done ? To fall back 
ten miles to the old works would certainly shatter the morale of 
the army. To push ahead might be to stumble into some one 
of those traps the wily Prussian king so well knew how to lay ; 
and here, right here, was a capital line. It was adopted at once. 
With its centre in the village of Leuthen, a long mile south of 
the highway, its right at Nypern, two and a half miles north of 
that road, and its left off behind Sagschutz, the whole some six 
miles in extent, the Austrian army formed line of battle. The 
position was a good one; the villages were heavily garrisoned by 
strong divisions of infantry, thrown forward from the main lines. 
Over one hundred guns of light calibre were advantageously 
posted along the ridge; the cavalry of Lucchesi, out on the ex- 
treme right, where that zealous and enthusiastic soldier is to have 
command ; that of Nadasti on the left and facing a low meadow- 
like stretch of land, lying down to and beyond Sagschutz to the 
west; while Daun's horsemen are posted in rear of Leuthen, 
and Daun is to command the centre immediately under the eye 
of Prince Charles, who has begun to think by this time that it 
were to his best interests to have his experienced subordinate 
close at his side. Nadasti on the left is a fine soldier, and has 
made an admirable disposition there. A thick little copse bends 
around on the slope with rather a sharp angle or elbow. He 
has crammed it with infantry, felled trees towards the west 
and south, and now occupies a compact little field-fort at this 
angle, while his line, bent back towards the rear at this point, is 
strongly backed up by a second line of footmen, and by the 
squadrons of horse. The peculiar formation is known to military 
students as " en potetice." 

Such being his main line, Prince Charles sends forward a 
strong brigade of cavalr to the west towards Frederick, and 



FREDERICK'S MEMORABLE ADDRESS. 359 

gives its commander, General Nostitz, orders to go well beyond 
Borne, the first village to the west, and there watch for the ad- 
vance of Frederick, and give timely notice of his coming. This 
done, he and his army betake themselves to easy-minded re- 
pose. 

Now for Frederick. On Sunday morning at four o'clock he 
sets out from Parchwitz at the head of his army, learning with 
grim satisfaction that the Austrians have moved forward to meet 
him, and he will not have to assault them in their stronghold. 
He knows every inch of the ground towards Breslau, for all 
along here he has been in the habit of exercising and manoeu- 
vring his army. Early that afternoon he pounces on Neu- 
markt with its bakers and bakery, and that night and for several 
to come, the Prussians have fresh bread for supper. Before leav- 
ing Parchwitz he had held a memorable meeting with his 
generals, and delivered an address that has come down to us 
verbatim. We have only space to quote a portion : 

" I intend in spite of the rules of art to attack Prince Carl's 
army, which is nearly thrice our strength, wherever I find it. 
The question is not of numbers, or the strength of his position ; 
all this, by courage, by the skill of our methods, we will try to 
make good. This step I must risk, or everything is lost. We 
must beat the enemy, or perish all of us before his batteries. So 
I read the case ; so I will act in it. If there should be one or 
another who dreads to share all dangers with me, he can have 
his discharge to-night." 

But no general needed that: all were eager and confident. 
They, too, most of them, knew their ground and had faith in their 
leader. Then the king strolled off among the bivouac fires to 
see his soldiers. It was a quaint fashion he had, but it made 
them love him. " Good-evening, my children," he cheerily 
hailed as they rose and grouped about him; and some old life- 
guardsmen, well knowing his humor, queried in the brusque 
and familiar way he liked at such times : " What news then, 
Fritz ? What brings you so late?" 

" Good news, lads: to-morrow you are to thrash the Austrians 
for me, and thrash them well — no matter how strong we find 



360 



LEUTHEN. 



them ; " and sturdy, resolute answer did he get from all. Then 
with parting "Good-night, good rest, my children," and "Good- 
night, old Fritz," or, more respectful, " Good-night, your maj- 
esty," off he would go to the fires of the next regiment. 

And so in the very best humor his brave fellows had marched 
on towards Neumarkt that raw Sunday morning; and in still 
better humor, immensely tickled at the way old Fritz had nabbed 
that Austrian bakery, they had by his orders gone early to their 
blankets that Sunday evening, for soon after midnight, very 
stealthily, he wakes his army. At one o'clock they are in ranks ; 
at two, on the road to Breslau. 

It is long before daybreak — a raw, foggy, Monday morning, 
this 5th of December, 1757, and in four columns, both on and 
parallel to the high-road, Frederick in front with his staff, only 
a few hussars well out ahead, the Prussian army trudges or trots 
along — very silently too— well closed up on head of column. 
There is no telling how soon the Austrians may be encountered. 
All goes well six — seven miles. Then word comes back from 
the hussar advance that there is something ahead. Vigilant 
light cavalrymen, " the eyes and ears of the army," make out 
that across the highway, and extending nearly half a mile right 
and left, there is a line of troops just astir. 

Quickly, without trumpet call, but in that perfect order 
and discipline in which old Ziethen kept his hussars, six or 
eight regiments of horse form line to right and left-front, feel 
their way forward until, in the first gray mists of dawn, they can 
just make out the shadowy line ahead, then charge! Away 
they go, crashing in upon poor Nostitz and his outpost, killing 
the unwary leader and many others, capturing 500 prisoners and 
driving the Saxon and Austrian horse helter-skelter back tow- 
ards Leuthen ; every man for himself, in wildest disorder; and, 
as luck would have it, these panic-stricken, stampeded wrecks 
go whirling off north of the high-road as they near the lines of 
Austria, and tell their tale of dismay not to sturdy Daun, but to 
mercurial Lucchesi up at Nypern on the right. " The whole 
Prussian army is at our heels — we are cut to pieces — nothing 
left of the Saxon hussars," etc., etc., and Lucchesi starts in at 



LUCCHESI DECEIVED. 361 

daybreak, on this eventful day, with the expectation of being the 
chosen object of Frederick's attack. Despite the peat-bog in 
his front, he believes that there and nowhere else will the Prus- 
sians appear. Already, argues he, they are striking off north of 
the high-road, and will come thundering down on my right ; so, 
nervously, he begins to feel off in that direction with his alarmed 
cavalry, and sure enough, before 'tis broad daylight, they come 
tearing back. They have seen a few squadrons, and that was 
more than enough. 

Long before Frederick arrives in sight of the Austrians, their 
right is uneasy and alarmed. 

But Frederick has halted his main army at Borne, and, with 
his staff and a few horse-guards, spurs forward to the one high 
knoll to be found thereabouts, and from here — the hill of Borne 
—he sees two miles away, stretching right and left, the long 
lines of the enemy. It is just growing light. Little by little 
the range of Nypern, Leuthen and Sagschiitz becomes perfectly 
distinct, and grim Fritz Magnus laughs in glee. He knows every 
rood of the land, and he could ask nothing better. The height 
he is on stretches away in a gradually lowering range till op- 
posite the Austrian left at Sagschiitz. He can watch every move 
they make, but this height and range utterly hides his army from 
their view. Quickly he orders up a sufficiently large body of 
horse and some light guns to hold the height and apparently 
threaten the enemy's right ; then soon after seven, orders for- 
ward from Borne, his four parallel columns. He has decided 
just exactly what to do. He means to give them a taste of the 
move of all others he most believes in — most loves to make — 
the attack in oblique order, and he means to try it down there 
at Sagschiitz to the south. 'Twixt eight and nine the heads of 
columns are well up from Borne, and there are his staff officers 
busily at work resolving the four, into two parallel columns and 
turning them southward. At ten o'clock his infantry is trudg- 
ing down back of the range and completely out of sight of the 
Austrians. 

Prince Charles in losing Nostitz and his outpost has lost his 
eyes. He cannot form the faintest idea of what Frederick is 



362 LEUTHEN. 

doing. Up there on the heights at the high-road, and farther 
northward in front of Nypern, a couple of cavalry brigades keep 
up a restless moving to and fro — now taking ground farther 
northward, as though to open out for more troops ; now mass- 
ing as though for attack — always in front of Lucchesi. Not a 
trooper shows anywhere else along the front, and King Frederick 
is delightedly keeping up the delusion. By ten o'clock he has 
Lucchesi completely on tenter hooks. " The whole Prussian 
force is massing for attack here ; I must be strengthened at 
once," he sends word to Prince Charles, and Prince Charles ap- 
peals to Daun. " Impossible," says the latter ; " the King of 
Prussia has manoeuvred all over this country and he is not going 
to attack across bogs and morass." So Lucchesi is ignored. 

Still Frederick keeps stirring him up. More cavalry are 
made to show out there on the Nypern front, for the Prussians 
are having hard work getting up their guns. Seventy-one they 
had in all, and all heavier than the Austrians, who had twice, 
perhaps three times, as many. But ten of the Prussian guns 
are of very heavy calibre, the pets of Frederick and his whole 
army; and these very guns — "The Boomers," as they are called 
— he happens to want just now way over in front of Sagschiitz, 
and it takes time to get them there. Meantime something must 
be done to keep the Austrians entertained, and that explains this 
masquerade over against Nypern. 

After eleven o'clock, and there is no telling still what the 
Prussians are doing. Prince Charles, with Daun and other trusted 
generals, is up in the old church tower of Leuthen, or perched 
on top of windmills scanning the west through their old-fashioned 
spy-glasses. No use to send out cavalry to make inquiries at 
the right and front. Those horsemen of Prussia are too quick 
and vigilant ; and as for the left, opposite Nadasti, any one can 
see there is nothing there. Even if formed, they have not men 
enough to reach that distance in single line. Ah, no ; and 
who would suppose that by this time all the army except these 
few cavalry are massed down there waiting only for " The 
Boomers." Every few moments there comes some new rumor 
or alarm from the right, and soon after twelve o'clock an urgent 



FREDERICK'S CELEBRATED OBLIQUE ORDER. 333 

message that begins to look as though there might be something 
after all in Lucchesi's entreaties. 

King Frederick, watching everything from the Borne hill, has 
now got his infantry in exact readiness and position to advance 
in their celebrated oblique order. In two parallel and heavy 
lines the Prussians are formed, still masked by the low hills, 
and facing, not toward the main line of the Austrians, but to the 
backward-thrown flank of Nadasti, so that the Prussian fronl 
really forms an angle of about thirty degrees with that of the 
Austrian main line. The former faces east-northeast; the latter 
due west. The cavalry are all formed — those who are to act 
under Ziethen in the grand assault on Nadasti's " potence ;" 
the guns are in readiness to be run forward into battery the in- 
stant the word is given, and now, noting the extreme strength 
of Nadasti's position, and that of Daun in centre, the wily king 
determines on another move. 

Sending orders for all the cavalry of his left to trot out before 
the eyes of Lucchesi, and form as though for attack, the king 
waits the result. Long before half their numbers have deployed, 
Lucchesi, scared in good earnest, sends word to his chief: 
" Send me strong reinforcements of cavalry at once or I will not 
be responsible for the result ; " and, out of all patience, Prince 
Charles orders Daun to take all his cavalry from the left-centre 
and go up there and see what is the matter ; and, disgustedly 
enough, Daun and his horsemen trot off, a three or four mile 
move in the wrong direction. Grimly Frederick watches them 
through his glass; signals " ready " to his watching army, and 
" forward," as the great gap shows in the Austrian line. Just at 
one o'clock the golden moment has come. 

Fancy the amaze of all Austria when the next moment, in 
perfect ranks, in compact battalions or squadrons, all in their 
appropriate positions (what we soldiers call in echelon by bat- 
talion from the right), in the far-famed oblique order of Frederick, 
lapping beyond the left flank of Nadasti, supported by their 
heavy-metalled artillery, " Boomers " and all, over the knolls and 
ridges beyond Sagschiitz, comes the whole Prussian army. 
Three minutes bring the great guns into play ; three more the 



364 LEUTHEN. 

light, and then the battalions open fire. One grand assault of 
nearly 25,000 magnificently trained soldiery has burst upon 
Nadasti's left, and the rest of the Austrian army, for all it can 
now do to help him, might just as well be in Breslau. Frederick 
himself has galloped down to superintend. 

This oblique order is something that ought to be explained 
right here. Suppose four battalions to be drawn up on the same 
straight line, elbow to elbow. Now to advance " in echelon 
from the right," as practised by Frederick the Great, the right 
battalion marches straight to the front. As soon as it has gone 
fifty paces, the next battalion starts ; the third " standing fast " 
until the second has gone its fifty paces, and so on until we have 
the four battalions moving to the front something like a pair of 
stairs, each one fifty paces behind the line of the other. Now 
instead of fifty steps, the distance might be made a hundred, or, 
instead of a hundred, the number of steps it took to pace off the 
front of a battalion, and the interval between it and the next in 
line, say three hundred and twenty paces. In this last-named 
case the " tread " or top of each step would be equal to its 
height, and, having our battalions in this shape, it is plain that 
each at the same instant co-uld wheel to its own right, to its own 
left, or halt, face about, and open fire direct to its new front with- 
out danger of hitting any other of the comrade battalions. 
Now, instead of confining the move to a little brigade of four 
battalions, conceive the whole Prussian line, each battalion, 
battery and squadron in its appropriate place, executing this 
beautiful manoeuvre, and you have just what Frederick played 
on overwhelmed Nadasti at Leuthen. With only " fifty-pace " 
distance, beginning with the right, he launched in his superb and 
compact army; then when the batteries, battalions and squadrons, 
which had begun the move, had got well out beyond Nadasti's 
extreme left, with one simultaneous impulse, this right division 
made a half wheel to the left, and Nadasti was enveloped in an 
arc of flame and smoke. 

Nadasti is a gallant fellow though, and, seeing well what is 
coming, hurls in all his cavalry at headlong charge on Ziethen's 
flank, now out in the air down beyond Sagschutz, and the attack 



THE AUSTRIAN LEFT WING IN DISORDER. 3^5 

is so spirited that but for the steady fire of their supporting in- 
fantry the hussars would be completely overthrown ; as it is, 
they get time to rally, charge in turn, and then, getting the 
better of the Austrians, chase them well home around Nadasti's 
left flank, and Nadasti is now too hard pressed all along his 
front and his retired flank to help his horsemen any further. 
Here, of course, the Prussians are in overpowering numbers. 
" The Boomers " play havoc with the Croats in that thick copse, 
and before the firm, steady, sweeping advance of the Prussian 
infantry no stand can be made. Up on his right the oblique 
advance has burst through Nadasti's line between the wood and 
Leuthen, and the luckless guardians of his extreme left are cut 
off, a tumultuous retreat begins, and at two o'clock the Austrian 
left wing is tumbling back in utter disorder upon or back of its 
centre. 

Daun with his misled cavalry comes tearing back at this 
juncture, but he cannot make headway or charge through a 
surging tide of his own people. Brigades and battalions come 
down at double-quick, or the run, from behind Leuthen; but they 
arrive " blown " and disordered, are swept into the sea of their 
huddling and bewildered comrades ; for, all the time, steadily, 
remorselessly, fatally, the serried lines of Prussia are sweeping 
northeastward up the ridge, halting by battalion and firing with 
the precision of machinery, then sweeping on again; and all the 
time old Ziethen is whirling his hussars around the outskirts of 
the sheep-like droves, taking whole battalions prisoners at a 
time, until at half-past two, the hitherto resistless advance butts 
up against the walls of Leuthen. Then comes a pause. 
Crammed with musketeers and light guns that Prince Charles 
has been frantically urging into position there, and on the ridge 
behind it, Leuthen becomes for the while a little fortress, a rock 
on which the Prussian battalions have to hammer a full hour 
before it is shattered under their blows. 

But it gives Austria a chance to breathe. Daun and Nadasti 
labor like heroes to bring order out of chaos now, and check the 
retreat. Resting its right on Leuthen, a new line is formed ex- 
tending off towards the southeast nearly to the valley of the 



366 LEUTHEN. 

Schvveiclnitz Water, but its left is " out in the air," and Ziethen 
chops at it with his sabres, splintering and shaving away until, 
little by little, that line is dwindling in toward Leuthen — Leuthen 
still the stormy vortex of the battle. 

Lucchesi, too, by this time has been making up his mind to 
do something, and changes front forward on his left, so as to 
have his line sticking out to the northwest, resting somewhere 
on the highway, also " in the air;" and at this flank those vul- 
tures of cuirassiers and the light cavalry of the left remorse- 
lessly peck, dribbling it away, as it went on the other end of the 
line. 

But the centre is still a rock. All around Leuthen the fight- 
ing is terrible. The church and the walled church-yard for a 
long hour resist all efforts, all blows. "The Boomers" hammer 
the walls into chips ; and then in hand-to-hand fashion the 
guards and linesmen rush in, and the bayonet does the work. 
So hard is the struggle here, and so desperate are the chances, 
that the king orders in the reserve, till this moment " refused " 
at Radaxdorf, y hamlet just over the Borne ridge; and as the 
fresh battaliow'i come sweeping across the low ground south of 
the highway, Lucchesi at last fancies his hour of vengeance has 
come. He has a strong corps of cavalry which has been of no 
use in the melee around Leuthen. Now he sees a chance to 
swoop dov/n on the flank of those reserve battalions. It is 
open over towards the " Scheuberg," the Borne ridge; nothing 
is to be seen at the moment, so with fervent impulse, with 
several thousand fresh horsemen, in he goes — to his death. 

He might have known that such a master as Frederick would 
never have left that flank defenceless; a few squadrons thrown 
forward to peep behind the Borne ridge would have told him the 
truth — that there, in ambush, lay Driesen with the reserve cav- 
alry of the Prussian army, and Driesen's orders are to guard the 
flank of the infantry when it goes in, and nothing else. 

Instead of meeting him with counter charge and driving him 
back, Driesen does far better. He lets Lucchesi rush past his 
covert, then — up rise his squadrons to the crest, shake free their 
reins, dig spurs to chargers' ribs, and down the slope they go 



UTTER ROUT OF THE AUSTRIANS. ' 367 

upon Lucchesi's rear. He is trapped. In ten minutes he him- 
self lies sabred and hoof-trampled to death. Dismay spreads 
through his entire wing. His left reels back before the Prussian 
reserve ; his right is whirled off the field by Driesen's imme- 
diate rush upon them ; they drift away back toward Lissa. And 
now, right gone — left gone — what use to hold Leuthen? Back 
go Charles, Daun, Nadasti, and with them all Austria, three miles 
back to Saara, and here, just at sunset, the last stand is made — 
a stand so weak, so tottering, as almost to be pitiful. It melts 
away before the first attack of the leading Prussian division ; and 
the proud, boastful array of Austria is in full retreat before the dis- 
dained Potsdam barrack guard. Four bridges cross-the Schweid- 
nitz water towards Breslau, and for hours these are jammed with 
disorderly fugitives — rank, regiments, all forgotten. It is a rush 
for the sheltering walls of the distant city. 

With Ziethen spurring behind them in vigorous pursuit, well 
may they flee. The Prussian infantry are halted in line at Saara. 
Strong guards are posted over the prisoners and plunder back 
on the battle-field; and King Frederick, as is his custom, rides 
among his battalions to praise or censure, as need be. Chief of 
the infantry of the right wing is the General Moritz, of Dessau, 
who has been simply superb to-day. Ever since Kolin, he has 
been burning for an opportunity of retrieving the ill-fortune that 
there attended him. Ziethen, Driesen, Ratzow, have all been 
daring and conspicuous; but the king singles out Moritz of Des- 
sau, and calls to him in hearty commendation, "Well done! I 
congratulate you, Field-Marshal;" and the emphasis on the last 
word carries glad tidings to the soldier, for no promotion is so 
dear as that won upon the field of battle. 

Then Frederick pushes ahead through the darkness to Lissa, 
down by the Schweidnitz water, only a few miles away. In the 
village, the small brigade that accompanies him stirs up a number 
of skulking Croats and stragglers in the outhouses and village 
taverns, and a fight breaks out in the darkness. The sound of 
musketry comes floating back through the still night air to the 
wearied footmen at Saara, and knowing their king to be ahead 
there, they resume their arms and trudge along to join him, 



368 LEUTHEN. 

singing solemn hymns of praise as they march, and so, make 
their soldier bivouac around Lissa, miles beyond the field they 
had won. 

Of all Frederick's victories, Leuthen was the most decisive. 
He says, and with good reason, that had there been two hours 
more of daylight, he could have utterly annihilated the Austrian 
army. As it was, his 30,000 had attacked and utterly routed 
8o,000 in a strong position. No finer tactical battle had ever 
been fought: 3,000 Austrians were left dead on the field, 12,000 
were taken prisoners on the day of battle, and 9,000 more within 
the next few days; 116 cannon fell into his hands, and fifty-one 
flags and standards. Against these, the losses of Frederick were 
1,141 killed, 5,1 18 wounded. Twelve days after Leuthen he had 
re-conquered Breslau, with all its arms, stores and trophies. Si- 
lesia was his again, and 17,000 more prisoners of war. 

As for the Empress of Austria, in her utter chagrin at these 
terrible losses, she relieved Prince Charles of his command and 
restored Daun to his former high position. Ten years before, 
Prince Charles had been termed one of the finest generals of the 
day; but in five pitched battles he had been beaten by Frederick, 
and war had lost its attractions for him. 

All Silesia being once more safely won to Prussia, and it being 
now mid-winter, the king and his army proceeded to make them- 
selves comfortable in and around Breslau, where they remained 
until the opening of the third campaign in the following spring. 



KUNERSDORF. 




1759 

FTER his great victory of Leuthen, as we have 
seen, King Frederick spent the winter in Breslau. 
Early in the spring, however, he was again in the 
field. His forces proved too weak for those of his 
adversary, Daun, who, as second in command, was 
whipped at Leuthen even whilst protesting against 
the battle. In all the fighting that followed, in all 
his combinations, Frederick the Great had no such 
antagonist as this gallant and loyal general: gal- 
lant, because he was ever ready to be " foremost in the fray; " 
loyal, because, whether superseded in command or being chief, 
his best efforts went to the cause of his country, and many and 
many a brilliant and skillful battle did he fight for her. Daun 
drove Frederick out of Moravia, which the latter had invaded, 
but could do nothing further. That in itself was an achievement. 
But, meantime, the vast forces of the Russians had swept down 
from the northeast. Frederick was compelled to meet them, and 
in August he fought and won the bloodiest and most destructive 
battle of the Seven Years' War — that of Zorndorf. 

Space compels us to limit the description of our battles to those 
which were most decisive or characteristic in a campaign, and Zorn- 
dorf lacked the brilliancy of manoeuvre which so distinguished 
many or most of the great engagements between Frederick and 
his legions of enemies. It lasted for several days ; was fought 
among bogs and morasses, and in a country so broken as to cramp 
the movements of the cavalry. The Russians fought with stolid 
desperation; the Prussians with determined valor; and the slaugh- 
ter on both sides was appalling. Frederick won from sheer per- 

(369) 



370 KUNERSDORF. 

sistency, though this sanguinary battle was never one on which 
he prided himself. As its result, the Russians were compelled 
to fall back beyond the frontier of Poland. 

Then the king turned once again upon the Austrians in 
Saxony, driving them before him steadily, until that brilliant 
Daun turned upon him with the sudden leap of a skilled fencer — 
actually took him by surprise, and gave the Prussians a sound and 
severe thrashing at Hochkirch before they had time to recover 
from their astonishment. Frederick rallied, and soon resumed 
his steady drive of the enemy, but this third campaign concluded 
with but trivial advantage for the Prussians. 

And now we come to the Fourth Campaign, and the darkest 
hours of Frederick and his gallant nation. We followed him to 
his greatest triumph at Leuthen. Let us see how he met and 
bore his deepest humiliation. It reached him at Kunersdorf. 

The Russians had routed the Prussian General Wedel at Zul- 
lichau on July 23d, and Frederick had to make all speed to his 
assistance. On the west, the Duke of Brunswick won a gallant 
fight at Minden, August 1st, badly whipping the French; and if 
Frederick could but retrieve the losses sustained at the hands of 
the Russians during the spring and summer, the Fourth Cam- 
paign would be in his hands. He was hopeful and buoyant. He 
had this spring introduced to the military world the first battery 
of" horse artillery," and he was delighted with the new arm, which 
he destined to accompany his cavalry. Mounted artillery was 
already an old story, and the reader must distinguish between the 
two. In the latter, the drivers ride the "near" horse of each 
team, but the cannoneers walk or run alongside the gun carriages ; 
and though occasionally allowed to ride on the ammunition chests, 
their movements are like those of foot troops, and mounted bat- 
teries could only accompany infantry. Not so with this new arm 
of Frederick's. He had thought it out in the previous year, 1758. 
Now in the spring of '59 he put it into practice. With guns and 
carriages made very light, but of the best material for strength, 
with the cannoneers galloping along after their guns, he aston- 
ished the enemy with a little four-gun, six-pounder battery that 
spun over hill and dale, wherever horses could go. Next year 



FRANKFORT-ON-THE-ODER SEIZED. 37 \ 

Austria imitated him ; then all Europe, though only very grad- 
ually. 

And now while Frederick with his new toy was watching Daun, 
there came the startling news that the Russians under Soltikoff 
had terribly defeated Wedel at Ziillichau — or, as others call it, 
Kay — and Palzig; next, that Soltikoff was marching on Frank- 
fort-on-the-Oder. Could he reach and take that city, he would 
be within sixty miles of Berlin. With all speed Frederick starts 
to aid Wedel. Disastrous as is the news he is nothing daunted. 
But on the last day of July the Russians seize the defenceless 
city ; there they are joined by an Austrian corps — 18,000 strong, 
under Loudon ; and, hurry though he may, Frederick comes too 
late. 

The Oder here runs nearly north. The little city of Frank- 
fort, then containing some 12,000 inhabitants, lies on the west 
bank, a single bridge of stone connecting it with the east side. 
West of the river the ground is hilly and broken; east of it, from 
opposite Frankfort down to Goritz, fifteen miles to the north, it 
is marshy and well-nigh impassable for three or four miles out ; 
then, nearly on a straight line north and south, there runs from 
Goritz to Schwetig, four miles above Frankfort, a range of heights. 
The river makes a bow-like sweep of these eighteen miles — a flat 
arch with the concavity to the east, and the range of heights along 
the string. Close under the heights, draining the eastern edge of 
the marsh, crawls a lazy, murky stream; it makes a sharp elbow 
about four miles out, north of east of Frankfort, breaks through the 
line of heights from the southeast, and if we follow it out a few 
miles through the thick woods in that direction, we find it drain- 
ing a chain of muddy little ponds. This dirty string of puddles 
is to play the mischief with Frederick's plans, and may as well be 
understood ; and its outlet — with miry bottom and oozy banks — 
the Hiinerfleiss (Hen Floss) is to give his artillery great annoyance. 

Now just where this Hiinerfleiss breaks through the ridge, the 
ridge itself turns sharply westward and makes for the Oder, just 
about four miles away ; and we have or had then (for the wind 
and rains have almost blown and washed away the topography of 
this famous battle-ground) a chain of knolls, never more than a 



372 KUNERSDORF. 

mile across, and this chain was called "the heights of Kuners- 
dorf," from the little village that nestled under the shelter of the 
easternmost knoll — the Miihlberg, or Mill Hill. Through Ku- 
nersdorf ran the high road to the east, along which the Russians 
had come. The road passed through a depression in the ridge 
west of the Mill Hill, then swept round to the west and followed 
the base of the spur to the bridge across the Oder. West of the 
Mill Hill came another and longer knoll — the Spitzberg; then 
a deep valley or depression through which the Oder must have 
flowed in days gone by, as, indeed, it must have washed its way 
through these other depressions or channels — the Kuh Grund 
(Cow Hollow) and Tiefe Weg (Deep Way) ; but this deep and 
clearly defined cut between the Spitzberg and the Judenberg 
(Jew Hill), a cut not unlike some of our western canons, is the 
most important of all — Hohle Grund (Big Hollow, some call it); 
London's Hollow, people called it for years afterwards, and with 
reason ! It was through there that Loudon, the Austrian, with 
his unexpected 18,000, swept down upon the wearied flank of 
Prussia's army and turned the tide of the furious fight at Ku- 
nersdorf. 

These three commanding knolls even then were no more than 
150 feet in height, while the general elevation was about IOO. 
All north of the chain, remember, is marsh and ooze except the 
narrow bench along which runs the high-road; and parallel with 
this high-road is a sluggish canal-like drain that lazily flows 
into the Hiinerfleiss, and with it is lost in the swamps toward 
Goritz. 

Just east of the Oder and north of the high road is a suburb, 
protected from the encroachments of the stream by a stout em- 
bankment, and called, from the earthwork to which it owed its 
existence, the Dam Suburb; and out east of this patch of houses 
were a few acres of dry ground, separated from the chain of knolls 
by that muddy canal. The sunken road of Ohain, says Hugo, 
was fatal to Napoleon and to Milhaud's cuirassiers at Waterloo 
years afterwards, because it could not be seen, and La Coste, the 
peasant guide, shook his head when asked if there were any ob- 
struction up that apparently smooth slope of Mont St. Jean. This 



MISTAKEN TACTICS OF AUSTRIA AND RUSSIA. 373 

canal was fatal to Frederick because he could see it in part, and 
his peasant guide shook his head when asked if there were any 
means of crossing it from the north. Loudon's 18,000 lay out 
there on that patch of dry ground, and the peasant did not know 
that in one night, with logs, stakes, barn-beams, stones and rub- 
bish, they and the Russians had bridged it opposite the Big 
Hollow; but they had, and it well-nigh ruined Prussia. 

East, around the slopes of the Mill Hill and south, along those 
of this range of knolls, lay an open valley, perhaps half a mile 
in width. Then came a belt of thick, tangled woods clear over 
to, and beyond the ponds of the Hunerfleiss — woods so impene- 
trable that from the heights themselves they masked and hid all 
movements that might be going on ; yet so boggy and miry was 
the ground all through there that the Russians seem to have 
considered it impracticable for the passage of troops; even their 
restless and hardy Cossacks never prodded its thickets with their 
lances. Their whole time was taken up plundering the villages 
along the Oder. 

Such was the ground over which Russia and Austria were to 
grapple with Frederick the Great; and yet Russia and Austria 
had not the faintest idea that the grapple would come when and 
as it did. Well they knew that Frederick would make all speed 
from the west to rescue Frankfort; and, not deeming the city 
defensible, it was their idea to let him come in, to retire before 
him to the east side; entice him across until he had the Oder 
behind him ; get him between the heights of Kunersdorf, the flat 
patch near the Dam Suburb, the embankments of the Oder ; tempt 
him to attack the heights, then fall upon and annihilate him. 

On Wednesday, August 8th, a gay party of Russian and 
Austrian generals had gathered at the cosy inn of Fischers 
Miihle, some distance out beyond the western suburbs of Frank- 
fort; dinner had been ordered, a jolly time was to be had, when 
in came the miller's boy all panic and perspiration, just able to 
gasp out " Prussian hussars ! " The convivial bout broke up 
in wild haste and confusion; the officers mounted in all haste 
and went scurrying back to Frankfort, sharply chased by the 
wiry swordsmen of Seidlitz, that prince of light cavalry soldiers. 



374 KUNERSDORF. 

King Frederick has arrived at the Oder and is out recon- 
noitring. His main body is at Lebus, six miles down stream, 
north of Frankfort. He has but 40,000 men all told, and the 
Russo-Austrian army has 90,000 — Leuthen figures over again, 
but the ground is far different. The old war-dog knows they 
will not come out to attack him, that he must be the assailant; 
and with such odds against him he can have little hope. He 
sees, too, that they have made no attempt to fortify Frankfort. 
He readily divines their intention of enticing him across there. 
He studies the distant heights of Kunersdorf through his glass, 
and sees their redoubts and earthworks bristling with guns. 
He needs more men, sends couriers to General Finck, and mean- 
time goes on quietly with his preparations for crossing. 

Soltikoff and Loudon now march all their troops, except a 
small garrison for Frankfort, over to the east side. Soltikoff 
takes post at Kunersdorf at the east, Loudon in front of the 
Dam town at the west. The Russians swarm along the heights, 
which on both faces, north and south, are fortified with parapet 
and ditch ; while at intervals heavy redoubts are thrown up. 
Nearly two hundred pieces of artillery are distributed along that 
formidable range, whose western end reaches the banks of the 
Oder, three-quarters of a mile south of that one bridge over 
which FretAapck is expected, nay, invited to come. 

Frederick does nothing of the kind. Finck with 10,000 men 
joins him on the 10th of August, at Reitwein, opposite Garitz. 
That night, on two hastily prepared pontoon bridges, the Prus- 
sian artillery and infantry cross the Oder opposite Oetscher, a 
little hamlet a mile south of Goritz. The cavalry ford the 
stream at the shallows higher up. Not a sign of preparation 
had been visible at the river until after dark. Not an inkling 
did the allies get of what was going on. At four in the morning 
all are safely across and stretching away southward on the road 
along the bow-string line of heights already described ; the 
heavy baggage is left under guard near Oetscher, and, at one 
o'clock in the afternoon, to the utter amaze and consternation of 
Soltikoff, the Prussian army appears in magnificent order of bat- 
tle, not behind Frankfort as was expected — not marching blindly 



§p ■•■■■■■ ■ .■ : . .'-■. ■■i-^^- : >^: l ta , ii, ; #iiii 

: : " ' ; - : ■'"'i' 1 '' ,''J , » !. ! ; 




FREDERICK II, OF PRUSSIA {A. Menzel 



FREDERICK RECONNOITRES THE ENEMY'S POSITION. 375 

into the trap prepared for it under the guns of the Juden, Spitz 
and Muhlbergs, but off there to the northeast in the open 
country, between Leissow and Bischoffsee. Frederick has fooled 
them again. 

And now while all is excitement and consternation in the 
Russian cantonments along the heights, Frederick cautions his 
army to rest after its long march ; and taking with him but a 
small escort of hussars, rides forward to thoroughly reconnoitre 
the position of the enemy from this side. He has utterly con- 
founded them, it is true ; but he has executed a manoeuvre that 
would have completely unnerved a Washington Cabinet during 
the days of our civil war. He has gone around behind the 
enemy, leaving the road open to his capital so short a distance 
away. He has thrown Finck with his division well forward to 
threaten the Mill Hill from the northeast; while his main army, 
40,000 strong, lies farther back in two ready lines, and calmly 
resting through the hot, sultry August afternoon; sorely needing 
water and shade, but patient and loyal to their grim old leader. 
It has grown to be a delight to follow him, no matter where he 
may go. 

It is while out here studying the situation and riding to and 
fro on the heights of Trettin, that Frederick meets in the 
peasant who brings him a jug of cold spring water, the intelli- 
gent native on whose information he leans so much the next 
day. He can distinctly see the camp of Loudon over there at 
the Red Grange, back of Dam town. He can see the marshy 
alder-waste, and the murky little west branch of the Hen Floss 
that runs between the highway and the boggy flats; north of 
which lies the dry patch where Loudon is posted; and he asks 
that question of his guide to which allusion has been made : 
" If you wanted to get across from the camp of the Austrians to 
the Big Hollow there, or to the Judenberg, could you do it?" 

" No, your majesty. The Hen Floss is not fordable, nor the 
alder-waste beyond ; you have to go way round — back through 
Dam town," and though the king looks sharply at him and 
repeats with emphasis his question, the peasant sticks to his 
assertion, and honestly believes it. 



376 



KUNERSDORF. 



Even now Frederick is not fully satisfied. He cannot con^ 
ceive it possible, that, between the corps of Loudon and the 
army of Soltikoff, there should be no direct means of communi- 
cation. On a bee-line, they lie not more than two miles apart — 
not more than one from Loudon's nearest flank to the slopes of 
the Judenberg. Even admitting that he was expected to come 
no other way than across the bridge from Frankfort, Frederick 
feels sure that there ought to be some causeway through the 
alder-waste — some bridge across the Hen Floss. So he calls up 
Major Linden, whose regiment had long been posted at Frankfort 
some little time before, and who had hunted all over this ground. 
The major answers as confidently as the peasant, and Frederick, 
satisfied at last as evening lowers, rides back to Bischoffsee to 
make his dispositions for the morrow. That night the western 
sky is red with the glare of conflagrations. In revenge for being 
outwitted perhaps, but for no good and sufficient reason, the 
Russians are burning the defenceless villages, and thousands 
of homeless creatures are wandering, weeping through the dark- 
ness, seeking over pathways lighted only by the flames of their 
own roofs, some refuge from the wrath to come. Kunersdorf 
and other outlying hamlets lie in ashes before midnight; Schwetig 
and Reipzig go down before the Cossack torches on the morrow, 
but meanwhile the Prussian army sleeps. 

All night long, upon the heights, the Russians are swarming 
to and fro, dragging guns into new positions to meet attack from 
the quarter so unexpectedly occupied by Frederick. All around 
the base of the Miihlberg, which stands nearest to the Prussian 
line, a thick abatis has been constructed. The redoubts upon 
its crest are very strong, and if Frederick could but attack from 
the northeast and sweep over that height, he from its summit 
might " enfilade " the entire Russian line ; perhaps roll them up 
on the centre as he did the Austrians at Leuthen. 

On the night of August nth, the Russian lines, three miles 
long, stuck out northeastwardly towards him. His army was 
posted at right angles to them, facing southwest, for all the 
world like the cross to a T ; ancI , studying the situation from 
maps and histories, one cannot help wondering why he did no 4- 





FRENCH GENERALS. (1799-1800.) 



LIGHT INFANTRY, (1795.) 




HUSSAR, CAVALRYMAN AND INFANTRYMAN. (1795.) OFFICER OF THE GUARD AND GRENADIER. 

HISTORIC WAR DRESS. 



THE PRUSSIANS AGAIN ON THE MARCH. 377 

attack that exposed flank from that very direction. True : the 
east branch of the Hen Floss lay before the advance of Finck's 
division, but it could be crossed. He himself, with all the 
main body, did cross it higher up. The advantage he would 
have gained is apparently immense, but he adopted an entirely 
different plan, and probably knew what he was about, even if 
the move seem incomprehensible to the student of to-day. 

At three o'clock Sunday morning, August 12th, 1759, the Prus- 
sian army is again in march. Finck with 12,000 men in strong 
formation, sweeps down almost to the east bank of the Hen Floss, 
quite within long range of the guns on the Miihlberg, and there 
he halts, and begins making apparent dispositions for attack. 
His orders are to induce the Russians to believe that the grand 
assault is to come from there. He runs forward two strong 
field-batteries ; he and his generals ride forward making ostenta- 
tious reconnoissance of the heights ; the Russians bang away at 
them with their field-guns in the redoubts, and they fall back for 
shelter but make no reply. For hours they keep the Muscovites 
on tenter-hooks of expectation, always threatening, never exe- 
cuting a charge. 

Meantime, what has become of Frederick ? Even as he keeps 
up this aggravating by-play, Finck is constantly watching the 
skirt of the woods beyond the valley south of the chain of 
knolls. Six — seven o'clock come, and still no sign of soldiery 
in that quarter. Finck is getting alarmed and impatient. 

At three A. m., when Frederick with his main army moved off 
into the woods towards the high road that led to Reppen and the 
east, he had no idea of the intricacies of the way — pools, bogs, 
marshy rivulets, thickets, underbrush, tangled copsewood — every- 
thing, in fact, that could impede the march of an army, stood in 
the path; yet he had made up his mind and was determined to 
go ahead, lugging his guns with him. Even before Seidlitz with 
his leading hussars succeeds in reaching the Hen Floss, out of 
sight of the Russian advance posts, the artillerymen, time and 
again, have been compelled to unhitch, turn their carriages round 
1/ hand, work, and pry, and push them around all manner of 
boggy corners. The large guns, like the " Boomers " of Leuthen, 



378 KUNERSDORF. 

are drawn by twelve horses each, and are of immense bother. 
Frederick, after his talk with that Nimrod of a Major Linden who 
had ridden all over the country, thought he could be in the de- 
sired position by day-break ; but it is eight o'clock before his col- 
umns issue from the ooze and tangles of the boggy woods; and 
soon after eight the eagerly watching Russians on the heights 
detect the fact, that while the main attack may still come from 
the northeast, Frederick and his people are feeling around to- 
wards the south. The skirts of the woods along the low heights 
across the intervening open space are now brilliant with small 
bodies of gayly dressed hussars. Soon they can be seen all along 
that front from the Walckberg on the northeast, across the Klos- 
terberg — a wooded crest lower than the heights of Kunersdorf, 
but parallel to them and stretching southwestward, intersected 
about the middle by the road to Reppen. Beyond the road, on 
both sides, in fact, are thick woods ; and in these woods, close to 
their edge around the Miihlberg, Frederick is running up his 
heavy guns. Nine o'clock comes, and ten, and eleven, of this hot 
August Sunday; and still he is not ready. Still the first line of 
battle (with Seidlitz to the extreme left (the west), facing the great 
Spitzberg; and Prince Eugene, of Wurtemberg, on the right, lap- 
ping round so as to join hands with Finck) waits for the comple- 
tion of the batteries and for the second line to get straightened out 
behind them. The main army of the Prussians is facing north- 
west. It has marched completely around the position of the 
Russians on the heights, and the attack is to come from the veiy 
last quarter the latter expected. Eager to find out what may be 
going on behind that veil of light cavalry along the Klosterberg, 
some inquisitive Cossacks come loping out on their shaggy ponies 
and prying into the shrubbery. A roar from a light battery and 
a whizzing shower of grape stretches some of their number on 
the ground, and scatters the rest to cover. Still it is argued that 
only a few light guns and a cavalry scouting detachment can have 
worked around therethrough that thicket; and once more Solti- 
koff gazes nervously northeastward. Much of his cavalry and 
the fine Austrian grenadiers are still in reserve over there with 
Loudon at the Red Grange. All goes well — if slowly — with the 



FREDERICK STORMS THE MUHLBERG. 379 

Prussian lines, only Seidlitz does not like the looks of that Big 
Hollow off to his left-front. It is beyond his flank; he has not 
force enough to cover it; he cannot see into or through it from 
the little Spitzberg where he is posted, but he shrugs his shoul- 
ders and determines to make the best of it. At eleven o'clock 
the lines of Frederick envelop the Muhlberg like a great shep- 
herd's crook, with Seidlitz at the handle, Eugene at the shank, 
and Finck at the curving tip. Frederick is with Eugene, hopeful, 
energetic as ever. He, at last, gets sixty guns into battery (there 
are seventy Russian guns on the Muhlberg alone), and just at 
half-past eleven, with one simultaneous crash and boom they open 
on the heights. Instantly Soltikoff sees that he is enveloped; 
but so strong, so confident is he in his chosen position that it 
makes no odds to him. His gunners spring to work, and for an 
hour there rages the fiercest, loudest cannonade of the Seven 
Years' War, with one exception — Torgau in the following year. 
Two of Frederick's batteries posted on the Walckberg have 
openc d an enfilading fire on the lines of the opposite Muhlberg. 
and these guns are doing great execution, their shot leaping along 
the parapets, springing from battery to battery, driving the gun- 
ners to shelter, and knocking gun-carriages into toothpicks. It 
is magnificent practice, and Soltikoff rages in his heart when he 
sees that he has not a redoubt or field-work so built as to permil 
him to respond to those particular guns. By the artillery fire 
alone, the Russians manning the shoulder of the Muhlberg are 
so hard hit that they fail to serve their guns with any care, and 
after a brief half hour of this work Frederick determines on an 
assault. Sending word to Finck to press vigorously from the 
north, he orders forward eight pet battalions — Prussian grena- 
diers, and now comes the grandest sight of Kunersdorf. 

"Steady as planets," marching with a precision and accuracy 
that would have been applauded at Potsdam, these grand veterans 
sweep forward in charging column; "steady as planets" they 
descend the slopes, and for a few moments are sheltered from di- 
rect fire as they cross the hollow; then they breast the Miihl- 
berg — their alignment never wavers. Up they go till the tall, 
pointed grenadier caps rise above the crests; then despite the 



380 KUNERSDORF. 

fury of fire that greets them, forward they press squarely to the 
muzzles of the Russian guns; one grand volley they give, then 
in with the bayonet; and ten times their numbers of Muscovites 
reel, stagger, break and run before them. Despite all their offi- 
cers can do, the guardians of the Miihlberg are whirling back in 
panic — in terror — before these eight battalions of six-footers. 
They make no stand at all. In ten glorious, never-to-be-forgotten 
minutes the Miihlberg, with its redoubts, lines, batteries, its seven- 
ty-two guns, its commanding, enfilading position, all are Prussia's. 

Then " forward " is the word along the whole line. Seidlitz and 
Eugene lead in their divisions and strive in vain to cross arms with 
the panic-stricken Russians. No use. Soltikoff' s army has surged 
back from the lines from the shoulder of the Miihlberg as far 
southwest as Kunersdorf and its hollow, and it is only one o'clock. 

Now, now if the guns can only be run up here, all is won. 
The Russian guns left on the Miihlberg are useless to the 
victors since they have no ammunition to fit them, and little of 
the enemy's ammunition has been left. Finck strives in vain to 
get his guns across the Hen Floss, but there are only little 
rickety foot bridges (perhaps this may have been Frederick's 
reason for departing from his Leuthen tactics), and over an hour 
is consumed in patching up a suitable crossing. Then the guns 
that ought to have been down on Ziethen's left by this time, are 
hopelessly stuck in the mud a mile behind him, and the infantry 
of the second line that ought to be there to support the grand 
advance, are tugging at the muddy wheels, hauling at the strain- 
ing ropes, and in the wild hour of triumph that succeeds the 
capture of that citadel of a Mill Hill, Frederick the Great is 
passing through the crisis of his bloody and desperate campaign. 
He knows it, and is powerless to help it. His assaulting force 
has hurled back thrice its weight in Russians. All that is 
needed now is a sweeping artillery fire upon the chain of knolls, 
then all those solid lines and masses near the Big Hollow must 
go. They will be driven helter-skelter down the slopes towards 
the morass, or the Oder, or else huddled within the walls of 
Dam town. Oh, for the guns ! With them victory is in his 
grasp. Without them it is doubtful. 



SOLTIKOFF RALLIES HIS RUSSIANS. 381 

In all that fatal hour only four light guns, Tempelhof's, can 
be dragged to the crest. They are too few, too feeble, and now 
it is too late. The beaten Russians have rallied. 

With victory presumably in his grasp at one o'clock, King 
Frederick sends his jubilant despatch by courier to Berlin. 
Tempelhof, however, has only one hundred shot, and these are 
soon gone — then, with vast labor, their twelve horses straining 
every muscle, men and drivers working like horses, some few of 
the heavy guns are slowly and painfully dragged to the height ; 
but now, in fresh brigades and divisions, Soltikoff sends his 
reserves in eastward along the chain, while his erstwhile panic- 
stricken left reforms and comes up in support. Now, indeed, is 
Kunersdorf a furious battle. Seidlitz gets his horsemen out of 
the way, and wheels the infantry of his left wing around to face 
Kunersdorf in ashes, and the swarming, charging Russians now 
coming at him through the Kuh Grund. Their lines are deep and 
doubled and massive ; the crash of their volleys is ominous, and 
the clash of steel when the bayonets cross in the desperate hand- 
to-hand fight that ensues, is far more sullen and deadly than the 
rattle of the sabres in cavalry onset. For some time, in the 
surging to and fro, 'tis impossible to say which side will prevail ; 
but presently some of Finck's eager footmen who have scaled 
the slopes from the northeast, come charging down in support, 
and, once again, vehemently pursued this time, the Russians 
break and scatter beyond Kunersdorf. At three in the after- 
noon, panting, exhausted, victorious, captors of the heights east 
of Kunersdorf, and 180 cannon, the Prussians are triumphant; 
but — not a man has had a drink of water for twelve hours. 
They have been charging, fighting, climbing, shooting and stab- 
bing, exhausting work, all of it, for three straight hours, and 
men cannot stand everything. Dense masses of Russians are 
still over there on the Judenberg ; dense masses down on the 
roadway under the heights, and Soltikoff is using every effort 
to straighten them out. Officers are shouting, swearing, beating 
with their swords, forcing the patient Muscovite soldiery into 
ranks, and ere long they will be on the heights again. 

It is at this stage of the battle that some of Frederick's lead-^ 



382 



KUNERSDORF. 



ing generals, notably Finck and even Seidlitz, urge the king to 
let well enough alone ; to attack no more that day, but to rest 
content with winning 180 cannon and the Miihlberg. His men 
are fearfully tired, and the generals respectfully urge that he 
should now draw off to the Miihlberg itself, plant his batteries, 
get up his guns and the reserves of his second line still out there 
in the woods, and give the army its needed rest. But Frederick's 
blood is up. " Strike while the iron is hot," he argues. He 
orders up the entire left wing, as yet unengaged, and forms it for 
attack opposite the Great Spitzberg, where heavy batteries are. 
planted. The wing comes up as ordered, furiously assaults the 
batteries and redoubts of this formidable knoll, but with heavy 
losses it is repulsed and driven back down the slope. Then the 
grape and canister of the Russian guns rake huge lanes through 
the ranks, and, unable to stand against it, they fall back in fair 
order towards the woods again. Frederick is in misery at this 
repulse. He will not give up, however. He again calls on his 
cavalry and rides up to Seidlitz. " Try it you, then, Seidlitz : 
you saved us at Zorndorf," and obediently the brave old hussar 
leads in his dashing squadrons. The charge is superb but well- 
nigh desperate. Russian and Austrian guns mow down the 
troopers. Seidlitz himself is wounded and borne off the field; 
then, dazed and irresolute for want of a leader, the cavalry break, 
whirl aimlessly about the field a few moments, raked and shat- 
tered by the incessant discharges from the heights ; and at last 
they, too, bolt for the rear. Once fairly started, there is no stop- 
ping them till far from the field. 

And now Frederick's chances are indeed desperate. Em- 
boldened by their successful repulse of these two spirited attacks, 
the Russians at Great Spitzberg withstand with dauntless front 
these vehement charges led by the king in person. He cannot 
take that battery on the western heights. His men are dropping 
around him by scores. Two horses have been killed under him. 
His uniform is torn by bullets, yet he is unhurt. He rides 
hither and thither, striving to make his people stand against the 
now rapidly encircling masses of the Russians, but in vain. 
Worn, exhausted, parched with thirst, the Prussian lines are 



FREDERICK'S ARMY PRACTICALLY ANNIHILATED. 333 

drifting back towards Kunersdorf, and in so doing, they leave 
behind them the heights, the guns they had won and some of 
their own. Fresh battalions of Russians press them on their 
right from the north, and now, now issuing from that fateful 
Big Hollow, come Loudon's Austrian grenadiers. In superb 
array, fresh, vigorous, enthusiastic, they sweep eastward up the 
valley, strike the enfeebled flank of Frederick's line, and it 
crumbles to pieces. In vain Eugene with the cuirassiers rides 
round to the northeast and strives on Finck's side to break up 
the Russian columns pressing upon Frederick's line. The 
cuirassiers are mowed down before those ever ready guns and 
driven back. Then Puttkammer with the gallant hussars tries 
the same thing. He is killed and they are put to flight. It is 
no use, no use. 

Back of the Kuh Grund, Frederick makes one last deter- 
mined stand ; the lines not fifty yards apart, and blazing at 
one another with their musketry ; and now Loudon with all his 
eager cavalry trots out from that inexhaustible Big Hollow, and 
10,000 fresh horsemen come thundering forward on the stagger- 
ing line. Human endurance can bear no more. The valiant 
remnant of a valiant army breaks in dismay, and at six o'clock 
swarms eastward in utter disorder — in utter rout. Frederick 
rides among them exhorting, commanding, beseeching; all in 
vain. He prays for death ; he longs to lie there on the field of 
his bitter humiliation. A little squadron of hussars rescues him 
from swarming bands of Cossacks, and staff-officers seize his rein 
and lead him from the ground. At the banks of the Hen Floss, 
they pass battery after battery abandoned to the enemy, they 
pass struggling/crowding fugitives, but his officers never let him 
stop. They lead their heart-broken king back to Oetscher, and 
there at the bridges Frederick can rally but three thousand of 
his men. His army is practically annihilated. 

That night in his despair Frederick writes to the Count 
Finckenstein at Berlin : " The consequences of this battle will 
be worse than the battle itself. I have no resources more ; and 
to confess the truth, I hold all for lost. I will not survive the 
destruction of my country. Farewell forever." 



384 KUNERSDORF. 

Well might he be despondent. Between Oetscher and the 
southern hamlet of Bischoffsee, where he had so confidently 
bivouacked the previous night, the whole country was covered 
by stragglers of his proud army, now relentlessly pursued and 
lanced by those bloody Cossacks. His guns were all gone — 
165 of them — left on the hither bank of that fatal Hunerfieiss. 
Flags and standards without number dropped upon the field ; 
his grand cuirassiers crushed and virtually unhorsed, so many of 
their chargers had been killed ; his dashing hussars well-nigh 
exterminated ; Seidlitz wounded, Puttkammer slain ; his stately 
grenadiers reduced from a superb division to a battered regiment. 
It was the blackest day Prussia had ever known. No wonder 
consternation and dismay reigned in Berlin when that fifth 
courier arrived. No wonder Frederick himself broke down and 
temporarily turned over chief command to Finck. They got him 
across the Oder to Reitwein on the following day, and there 
some 23,000 of his 50,000 rallied to the colors, but so broken 
and dispirited, shorn of arms, equipments, artillery, horses and 
leaders, that only the peerless discipline of the Prussian soldier 
kept them from further flight. 

But Russia and Austria failed to follow up their great advan- 
tage. They had lost in this desperate and furious battle 18,000 
men in killed and wounded. Prussia had left 6,000 dead, and 
13,000 wounded upon the field, and vigorous pursuit would have 
scattered the remnant of the army to the four winds. So con- 
fident was Frederick that pursuit would come, that he caused 
the queen and court to abandon Berlin, and make hasty flight 
to Magdeburg. But the second, then the third day passed by. 
Only a few marauding Cossacks ventured westward from Frank- 
fort, and Frederick, standing by his resting army, took heart of 
grace, resumed command on the 17th, and ordered up artillery 
and supplies from Berlin. 

Soltikoffit seems was drunk with triumph if nothing else, and 
the officers to whom he intrusted the pursuit got drunk with 
something else, if not with triumph. The former remained at 
Kunersdorf sending elated despatches to his imperial mistress, 
the tsarina, at St. Petersburg ; the latter dismounted from their 



AN UNFRUITFUL TRIUMPH. 385 

horses and held a symposium before setting forth for Reitwein, 
and — never got any further. 

And thus it happened that what should have been one of the 
decisive battles of the world ; what could have been and would 
have been the death-blow to Frederick and to Prussia, was per- 
mitted to remain an unfruitful triumph — a valueless victory. 

Loudon the Austrian, who had so contributed to the victory 
itself, was powerless to act when it came to pursuit. Already, 
grievous jealousy had broken out in the Russian ranks, and 
robbed him of his due merit. His counsels were neglected, 
even snubbed ; and this worthy soldier was forced to look on 
and see the one great opportunity of giving the finishing stroke 
to the arch enemy of his country, utterly neglected. In the 
general paralysis which seized upon the enemies of Prussia after 
the blow at Kunersdorf, even the great Field-Marshal Daun was 
involved. He, with a large army, was only about eighty miles 
south of Frankfort — could easily have joined Soltikoff, or, inde- 
pendently, marched on Frederick ; but they seemed to be wait- 
ing for each other ; the golden moment passed by, and in six 
weeks, despite the fearfal blow of Kunersdorf, Frederick was 
himself again. 



TORGAU. 




1760. 



HANKS to the inaction of his adversaries, 
Frederick the Great was enabled to assemble 
some 28,000 men. The Russians were afraid 
of him, and backed into Poland. There was 
a lack of cordiality between them and the 
Austrians after Kunersdorf, that was of ma- 
terial service to Prussia. But the king was 
destined to suffer another severe blow in this 
eventful fourth campaign. General Finck, with 11,000 men, was 
captured at Maxen in Saxony on November 21st, and, in the deso- 
late winter that followed, with an exhausted treasury and a well- 
nigh exhausted country, the indomitable monarch prepared for 
his fifth campaign. In the spring of 1760, he could muster all 
told, in all parts of his beleagured kingdom, only 90,000 men. 
Then Fouque with 8,000 men was captured in Silesia, and that 
bone of contention once more fell into Austrian hands. When 
autumn came, the gallant old soldier was well-nigh hounded to 
death. He was hemmed in on every side. The Austrians and 
Russians seized and sacked Berlin early in October ; the Swedes 
came down from Pomerania ; the Austrians under Loudon up 
from Silesia; the French, who had attempted a forward move 
from the west, were fortunately easily disposed of in two sharp 
engagements, Einsdorf and Marburg; but Frederick was fairly 
in the toils, and, like a hunted lion, was well-nigh goaded to 
desperation. It was then that he turned like a flash on his old 
antagonist, that famous Field-Marshal Daun, and on November 
3d, just north of the Saxon frontier, won from him the great and 
(386) 



DAUN AND FREDERICK AGAIN MEASURE SWORDS. 387 

decisive battle of Torgau. Just when his fortunes were at their 
lowest ebb, he fought the fight and gained the victory that 
proved the turning point of the whole war. From this time on, 
all was triumph. 

Of Daun it is said, that though chief in command of the Aus- 
trian forces this year, he had lost something of his old energy 
and skill. Possibly it may be that by this time Frederick had 
fathomed all his methods and he could originate no more. Of 
Frederick himself it must be said, that in his extremity he resorted 
to devices as questionable, if not as criminal, as those of his auto- 
cratic old father in the recruitment of his armies. He had agents 
and crimps everywhere; and able-bodied men, young and old, 
were spirited away from home and off to the front before any- 
thing could be done to rescue them. Once there, the case was 
hopeless. 

A favored rascal named Colignon was one of the king's most 
successful recruiting officers. This man had a roving commis- 
sion — went everywhere or anywhere under the royal safe-guard, 
picking up young clerks, apprentices, wild and wayward younger 
sons, discontented with the humdrum life of country homes, 
promised them lieutenancies, captaincies even, in the crack regi- 
ments, guards, cuirassiers, hussars; advanced them small sums of 
money, gave them orders for uniforms and outfit, ran them off 
from home stupefied with liquor, and when they came to their 
senses it was to find themselves in a recruit camp, learning the 
rudiments of the art of war to the accompaniment of a caning 
for every blunder. There was no time for extended explanation. 
And yet in this fifth campaign the Prussian army fought superbly, 
as we shall see, and these enforced recruits were better off in the 
end — those who were not maimed for life. 

Late in October, 1760, Field-Marshal Daun with some 60,000 
Austrians was encamped around Torgau, a city about the size of 
Frankfort-on-the-Oder, of 12,000 inhabitants. It lies ten miles 
north of the Saxon frontier on the west bank of the Elbe, and 
perhaps ninety miles west of south from Berlin. Off to the south- 
west, across the Saxon lines and thirty miles away, lay Leipsic, 
and here some 40,000 of the "Reich's" army, also Austrian, 



388 TORGAU. 

had fallen back before Frederick's advance. Mid-way between 
the two cities, and on a good road, lay Eilenburg, and only a few 
miles north of Eilenburg, the little town of Diiben. 

With one of his wonderfully quick marches Frederick sud- 
denly swooped upon Diiben, built a little magazine and store- 
house there, sent General Hiilsen with a good-sized corps to give 
battle to the Reich's army at Leipsic, while he himself seized 
the high-road to prevent Daun from attempting to help his breth- 
ren. The Reich's people never gave Hiilsen a chance to fight. 
The night he arrived before the north gates of the city, they 
slipped out by the south, and scurried off into mid-Saxony. They 
had no stomach for unsupported battle, even with a Prussian 
force vastly their numerical inferior. Hiilsen left a little garrison 
at Leipsic, October 31st, and, like the prompt soldier he was, 
hastened back to join his king. The Reich's army thus summa- 
rily disposed of, Frederick was ready to measure swords again 
with his old adversary. They must have had a good deal of re- 
spect for each other by this time — Daun and Frederick — for 
though Frederick leads only 44,000 men, Daun dares not move 
out from his intrenched position to meet him ; and though Fred- 
erick has whipped Austrians and Russians when the odds were 
three to one against him, he knows well that he can afford no 
odds to Daun. 

On November 2d the Prussian army is en route for Torgau. 
That night they encamp at Schilda, seven miles south of the Aus- 
trian position, and this position is so strong as to be deserving 
of extended description. 

At Torgau, the Elbe, which has been flowing northwest, turns 
suddenly northward, and from the elbow or bend there starts a 
ridge, low at first, with gradual slopes north and south, but bolder, 
higher, steeper toward the west, until, three miles out, the south- 
ern sides are well-nigh precipitous, while those to the west and 
north are easy of ascent. It is perhaps 200 feet in height at the 
highest point, three miles long from the west end to the walls 
of Torgau, and a mile to a mile and a half across. Close into 
Torgau on the southern side, there is another point where the 
bank is very steep, but here the elevation is inconsiderable. This 



FREDERICK AGAIN DECEIVES DAUN. 339 

broad-backed ridge, mostly covered with vineyards, is known as 
"The Heights of Siptitz," and here within strong earthworks 
are Daun's 45,000 Austrians. Lacy with his corps, the rear 
guard, is farther to the east under Torgau. 

All along under the southern slope runs a dirty, sluggish stream, 
the Rohrgraben, which empties into as dirty a pond or series of 
ponds south of Torgau. Daun's army is facing south, and his 
front is covered by a score of these exasperating puddles. The 
whole country between Schilda and the Siptitz Heights is cut up 
by these lagoons of stagnant water, vastly in Frederick's way ; 
but from Schilda as far north as the eye can reach, way beyond 
the western end of the heights, the country is level and covered 
with a dense growth of forest. 

Frederick sees quickly enough that he cannot carry that invul- 
nerable position from the south. He means to let Daun think 
he is going to try, however, and on the night of November 2d 
makes his plans with all deliberation, but takes no one into his 
confidence. Small as is his force, he has determined to attack on 
both sides at once. We have seen him massing his whole com- 
mand against an exposed flank at Leuthen, attacking in one 
long encircling line at Kunersdorf, now we come upon him adopt- 
ing a third and desperately hazardous course, dividing his army 
into two independent corps, leaving one to threaten Daun from 
the south, while the other marches miles away through the woods 
to the west and north, makes a great circuit, comes out on the 
northern side of the Heights of Siptitz and attacks from there. 
What if Daun were to pounce on that 20,000 on the south side 
while Frederick is miles away to the west in the woods ? 

But Frederick means that Daun shall not know of the separa- 
tion. At half-past six on Monday morning, the 3d of Novem- 
ber, he faces the entire army westward, marches out of camp in 
that direction in four columns. On the right is Ziethen's corps, 
next the grenadiers and foot-guards, then the hussars and cuiras- 
siers, and farthest to the left the baggage. Once well into the 
woods the heads of columns are turned to the right, and move 
northward through the shadowy aisles of the forest along kttle 
bridle-paths and wood-roads ; and here the king takes General 



390 TORGAU. 

Ziethen into his carriage. In a short time they will reach the 
highway from Eilenburg on the west to Torgau on the east. 
Before they get there, Frederick unfolds his plan to his loyal 
subordinate. " You with 20,000 men will follow the road to 
Torgau, until you reach the ' Butter Road ' which crosses the 
highway near Klitschen, and leads up to the heights of Siptitz. 
Here begin your deployment to the left. Prepare to attack 
from the south along the line of heights, but move slowly and 
deliberately. Be in no hurry. I have to march completely 
around to the north, and our attack must be simultaneous., 
You have barely six miles to march ; I have sixteen ; so keep 
here in the woods for an hour or so, to give me a good start," 
and by the time they have reached the Eilenburg road, Ziethen 
thinks he has the plan clearly settled in his mind. Yet he goes 
amiss. 

It is a dreary, drizzling morning. The wood-roads are soft 
and slippery, but leaving Ziethen there along the Eilenburg 
highway, the king pushes on northward. He reforms along the 
road and now is marching in four columns : baggage to the 
extreme left, the west, then Holstein with most all the cavalry, 
the cuirassiers, hussars and dragoons, and a small brigade of foot; 
then Hiilsen with two divisions of infantry of the line; then, 
nearest to the Siptitz heights, but still hidden from them in the 
woods, Frederick himself with 8,000 grenadiers and guardsmen, 
and 800 picked hussars under Kleist. The roads, though practi- 
cally parallel in their general direction, are, after a while, some-, 
what baffling and intricate. The baggage is halted under strong, 
guard well out in the forest, and the other three columns trudge' 
ahead through the dripping woods. Daun has scouts out there, 
of course, and presently Frederick's column runs up against a 
small force with a light battery ; the battery fires a salvo, then 
limbers up and trots off towards Siptitz, and couriers galloping 
in, warn Daun that the enemy are moving around him. All the 
previous night he has had Lacy with the rear guard, a corps of 
20,000 in itself, down south of Torgau to avert surprise from 
that quarter; now he sends word to Lacy to close in on the 
heights, and take post facing southwest between the Rohrgraben 



ZIETHEN'S PREMATURE MOVE. 391 

and Torgau. So towards nine o'clock Lacy is filing into his 
new position, while his cavalry go adventurously out to the 
southwest in search of possible Prussians. All the Austrian 
baggage is across the Elbe, sent there the previous day, for 
Daun believes in being on the safe side in the event of disaster. 
Besides the great stone bridge, he has three pontoons from Tor- 
gau to the opposite bank, and can cross at a moment's notice. 

Meantime the three Prussian columns are steadily plodding 
northward, invisible to one another; and, unknown to Frederick, 
Holstein is getting altogether too far out to the west. He is 
following the road and really cannot help himself. Out here a 
regiment of Austrian dragoons, scouting, gets between the 
columns of Hiilsen and Holstein, and is very cleverly trapped 
and taken prisoner, but in doing it several batteries get into 
miry ground, are delayed an hour or more, and just now delays 
are very dangerous. 

But while Holstein is groping there to the west, Frederick 
continues pushing ahead. He has got to the northwest of the 
heights by this time, and Daun, following his move with sharp- 
eyed cavalry, readily divines his purpose of attacking from the 
north, and makes great preparations to meet him. He has im- 
mense store of artillery. Never before did so many cannon appear 
in battle. Austrian officers say that they had 400 guns, and 
200 of these are hurriedly run into battery on the northern 
slopes to command the wood-skirts only 800 yards away. 
.Somewhere along there Frederick must emerge. 

Meantime, Lacy from the southwest has been marching up 
the Rohrgraben with the Austrian rear guard, sending forward, 
as we have seen, cavalry and some light guns to hunt for Prus- 
sians out towards the "Butter Street;" and old Ziethen with his 
20,000 has by this time decided that Frederick has gone so far 
as to render his own move necessary. He has therefore marched 
east along the Eilenburg, turned north towards the heights at 
the Butter road, and there, runs slap into Lacy's explorers. 
These fellows, instead of scurrying back, unlimber their guns 
and show fight. Ziethen has to order up a few batteries to reply, 
and the next thing grim old Frederick hears, six or eight miles 



392 TORGAU. 

away, is the booming of artillery south of the Siptitz, whereat 
he begins, soldier fashion, to swear. " Ziethen engaged already ( 
and we won't be ready for two hours,'"' is his reflection. Could 
he see just what Ziethen is doing, he would probably rage. 
The Austrian advance retires in good order before Ziethen, and 
the latter, intent on picking up all he can, pursues them. His 
instructions were to be in readiness to attack along the Butter 
road, which runs up on the west end of the heights. Instead of 
that, he has faced eastward again, and is following up that ad- 
mirably handled reconnoitring brigade. Full two miles he goes, 
emerges from the woods, and finds himself engaged in artillery 
duel with Lacy across the Rohrgraben, and there he is planted 
the rest of the live-long day. He has found an enemy strongly 
posted and equal numerically to his own force. He knows he 
is out of position, yet he cannot bear to fall back in apparent 
defeat; so there, in chafing irresolution, he lingers, waiting for 
news from Frederick, and for want of something better to do 
keeping up this languid and sullen artillery practice. 

Meantime, noon has come and gone ; so has one o'clock, and 
Frederick with his grenadiers and Kleist's handful of hussars is 
now at the skirts of the wood north of Siptitz waiting for Hiil- 
sen and Holstein. Not a word can he hear of either. Staff- 
officers go spurring through the forest to the northwest in search 
of them, but another hour goes by, Hiilsen is found and turned 
in the right direction, but no Holstein. Frederick can bear the 
suspense no longer. The steady thunder of Ziethen's and Lacy's 
guns grows louder as he pushes through the wood towards the 
heights. At last he halts his Potsdammers close to the edge 
of the open fields under Daun's batteries, and looks out. The 
position is well-nigh as formidable as that at Kunersdorf, and 
the guns and gunners are far more so ; but those superb grena- 
diers, the flower of his army, carried the heights there, and they 
can do it here. In his impatience he cannot wait ; the devoted 
guards are ordered to make the first attack ; the grenadiers form 
in two lines; Ramin's brigade acts in support as a third ; and, 
in magnificent order, despite the pelting rain, they issue from 
the woods, crush through the old rotten half-burned abatis left 



MAGNIFICENT CHARGE OF FREDERICK'S GRENADIERS. 393 

there a year before, and stalk out on the unsheltered slopes, the 
target for three hundred and fifty guns. Pickett at Gettysburg 
is a recent parallel. Daun's left is their objective point ; and 
Daun's left, like Nadasti's, at Leuthen, is thrown back en potence, 
and to the bellowing accompaniment of those twenty score of 
guns, Prussia's best and bravest move slowly and steadily up 
that natural glacis. " Did you ever hear such an infernal can- 
nonade before ? " asks King Frederick, as he rides to his place 
between the two lines of his grenadiers; for now and always, 
this superb old soldier fights with his men in the thickest of the 
battle. 

There is something grand in this desperate charge ; some- 
thing inexplicable, however, in the motive that could inspire and 
direct it. Eight thousand men, unsupported by artillery, unsup- 
ported by anything in fact, for Hiilsen has not yet shown a 
bayonet, to attempt to carry even the shoulder of a line held by 
such overpowering force, and defended by such vast numbers 
of guns ! It looks like madness! Whole companies are swept 
to earth at a time ; one regiment, the left of the leading line, is 
practically annihilated ; only its colors and a handful of bleeding 
officers and men represent it when the line reaches the crest ; 
but it gets there, what there is of it, fighting superbly, and the 
thinned, ragged, breathless line stands flashing through the 
battle-smoke, triumphant over all effort. But at what fearful 
cost ! There were 6,000 grenadiers in those two lines twenty 
minutes ago ; now, though right in among the Austrian guns, 
they number not 2,000. Two-thirds of their stern, battle-tried 
brethren lie stretched, dead, dying or crippled upon the north- 
ern slope of the Siptitz. And now, swarming around the de- 
voted remnant, the Austrian foot-regiments pour in furious volleys 
of musketry; still the carnage goes on, and, with absolutely 
nothing won except honor, with almost everything lost except 
honor, Frederick orders them to fall back. Only 1,000 can obey, 
another thousand is lying there around the guns at the crest. 

Slowly and in sullen order they give way, once more for an 
instant becoming the target of the thundering guns ; then the 
exulting footmen of the enemy rush forward, envelop their flanks, 



394 TORGAU. 

protect them from artillery fire but substitute their own musketry. 
They make the rush in tumultuous disorder. There is no break- 
ing that indomitable Potsdam front, and suddenly the brigade 
of Ramin, right and left, sweeps forward in disciplined support. 
Then united the Prussians leap upon the mobs of the enemy, 
bear them backwards up the slope, enter the lines with them, 
through the guns, over the earthworks, never giving them time 
to reform or rally, and in the twinkling of an eye, Daun's left is 
thrown into grievous disorder and swept away, and Daun him- 
self, striving to mend matters, is shot in the leg. It is three 
o'clock now, and luckily for Frederick and his exhausted men, 
here comes Hiilsen. 

Like grim death, the guardsmen and Ramin cling to what 
they have won while Hiilsen's lines deploy under the fire of 
those terrible guns farther east. At half-past three he moves 
forward. The rain has stopped now, " blown away by the tre- 
mendous artillery," writes an artillery officer who saw it all, and 
Hiilsen's attack is vigorous and well led. Daun's left, already 
disordered and the " potence" broken, is in a bad way, but he has 
right there on the west side of the heights along the Butter 
Street a strong reserve, the very people whom Ziethen was to 
hold and keep busy, and Ziethen is not there to do it. He is 
off to the east dallying with Lacy. Instantly, Daun summons 
U\c reserve to the rescue, and now with overpowering numbers 
.ie rushes on Frederick. Frederick himself is struck nearly 
senseless by a half-spent grape shot, and this time Prussia is 
carried back in some dismay. The second attack has failed, and 
both on his side and Daun's the losses have been terrible. 
Never had such a roar of artillery been heard. In this respect, 
Torgau was the Gettysburg of the Seven Years' War. Four 
o'clock has come : Frederick is again in saddle ; Daun, bleeding 
but determined, is straightening out his shattered left. The sun 
is going down through the dripping clouds and murky smoke 
to the west; and just at this juncture, Holstein with the long lost 
cavalry comes trotting into line. 

There is no time to waste in explanations or inquiries. Fred- 
crick calls once more upon his infantry, hurls Holstein in with 



ZIETHEN'S NIGHT ATTACK. 395 

his whole force upon Daun's right, and so the third attack begins. 
The infantry, worn and wearied, make little impression; the cav- 
alry do some superb work, but cannot hold what they win. Dark- 
ness is settling upon the field. Neither side can much longer see 
to fight; and, utterly disheartened, Frederick turns over charge 
of the bivouacking and night guards to Hiilsen, and rides back 
to the rear for rest and a rap at Ziethen ; while Daun turns over 
charge to his third in command (his second, Buccow, is killed), 
" an Irish Graf O'Donnell," and goes into Torgau to get his 
wound dressed. 

" If Holstein had not lost his way and that stupid Ziethen his 
head, we would have won the fight three hours ago," thought 
Frederick as he gloomily rode away. Now it seemed that all 
was over for the day, and perhaps for good. Who could tell what 
Daun might not accomplish on the morrow, now that he knew 
how the Prussian army was divided ? He might annihilate Zie- 
then at daybreak ; then turn on the king. 

But Daun never had the chance. The battle of November 3d 
that had apparently closed at sunset — drawn, was not yet done. 
It was stupid, much-abused old Ziethen who was to renew and 
to win it. 

Way off at Elsnig, four miles back of his lines, King Frederick 
is dictating a furious letter to his old hussar leader whom he had 
left on the Eilenburg road that morning, when everybody starts 
to his feet and listens. Thundering, booming, crashing through the 
sodden air there comes the uproar of sudden cannonade far away 
to the south. It grows in vehemence with every moment; is 
presently supplemented by the roll and rattle of musketry. The 
southern horizon flashes like heat lightning with the reflecting 
glare of the volleys and salvos. It cannot be Hiilsen; he is on 
this side or lapping around to the west side of the heights. It 
can only be Ziethen. It must be Ziethen. What can the old 
madman be up to now ? Staff-officers spring into saddle and go 
sputtering off through the muddy roads and the murky darkness 
to inquire the meaning of this strange night-attack. 

It is old Ziethen. Disgusted with having accomplished noth- 
ing all day, determined to have some part in the battle before the 



396 TORGAU. 

3d of November shall have passed away at midnight, just when 
Daun's wearied army has thrown itself upon the ground around 
the bivouac fires for such rest as it can secure, Ziethen slips away 
from Lacy's unseeing front, plods back two miles through the 
woods towards the Butter road, his eager division commanders, 
Saldern and Mollendorff, pointing out the way. The latter seizes 
the passage across the Rohrgraben and deploys on its northern 
side, pushes on towards the Austrian watch-fires on the heights ; 
while Saldern, farther east, takes for his beacon the lights in and 
around Siptitz. Presently they strike the out-posts, paying nc \ 
heed to guttural challenge and orders to halt, and the next thing 
the Austrians know, a fresh corps is thundering at their battered 
and exhausted front, Ziethen is stumbling up the heights of 
Siptitz by the light of his own musketry, and if not driven back, 
in ten minutes he will be master of the key-point of the whole 
ridge, the westernmost, the loftiest of the heights. 

It is dark — so dark that one's hand cannot be seen before the 
face ; so dark that those who do not want to fight readily excuse 
themselves from taking part ; not so dark but what those who do, 
manage to get there. Of the former is Lacy, who, with 20,000 
fresh troops, is only three miles away, and to whom O'Donnell 
sends frantic and frequent appeals. Of the latter are gallant 
Hiilsen and Lestwitz, who have been fighting hard all day, but 
spring to arms and come filing through the pitchy night to aid 
their comrades in the new and gloriously promising assault. 
Daun, way off in Torgau, has been speeding jubilant despatches 
to Vienna, as Frederick did from Kunersdorf to Berlin. Now 
he sends fervid injunctions to O'Donnell to hold those western 
heights at all hazards ; and O'Donnell tries — tries hard. But the 
ascent is gradual and open ; the Austrian guns had all been 
lugged over to the north side during the day; now, those they 
manage to hurry back, fire high and send their shrieking missiles 
clear over the heads of the assaulting columns ; while Saldern's 
guns, sighted by the glare of burning Siptitz, rake the breast- 
works and sweep away their defenders. In one hour's superb 
effort, Saldern from the south, Mollendorff from the west, Hiilsen 
and Lestwitz from the northwest, have stormed and carried the 



FREDERICK EMBRACES ZIETHEN. 397 

heights of Siptitz at the highest point, and now are righting down 
hill towards Torgau and the east, driving the Austrians before 
them. O'Donnell is whipped. The principals being out of the 
way, the seconds are finishing up the fight, and most conclusively. 
Lacy, it is said, is always more successful in getting out of 
the Prussian way than in getting in ; and so when nine o'clock 
comes, and with it a disordered mass of Austrian fugitives swarm- 
ing eastward for the pontoons and the bridge, Lacy, who swears 
it was far too dark to march into battle, finds it light enough to 
march out; and when-the firing gradually dies away at ten o'clock, 
he and his corps, in most creditable order, file through Torgau en 
route for the other side of the Elbe. 

The Prussians, closing in towards the city with its fortifica- 
tions, form in rude semi-circle outside the works, deeming it best 
not to attack them in the night. Couriers are sent to Frederick 
to apprise him of the state of affairs, but the king is still gruff 
and out of temper. He must be vastly relieved at the thought 
that the heights are won, and the battle will not have to be fought 
again on the morrow; but he possibly hates to think that after 
all it was old Ziethen's, not his doing. At all events, he does 
not come down to the army. He spends the night in the church 
at Elsnig, using the altar for a desk, and sending orders and des- 
patches. 

Daun in Torgau has meantime had to send a very mournful 
missive to Vienna. Then he goes on with the work of retreat. 
By one in the morning he is ripping up his pontoon bridges be- 
hind his last battalions, and Prussian officers, prowling under 
the walls to find out what they can of movements within, gradually 
discover that they are unguarded; and along towards morning 
gloomy Frederick, wrapped in his cloak, and wandering among 
the hospital fires around Elsnig, is approached by a shadowy 
form. A wearied but exultant soldier dismounts, and greets his 
commander-in-chief with the news that Torgau is evacuated — 
Hiilsen in possession. It is old Ziethen himself, and the story- 
tellers of the day would have us believe that, in the joy of the 
moment, the monarch forgot his ire and embraced his forgiven 
general. Then he ordered his horse, and with Ziethen rode into 
the captured city. 



398 TORGAU. 

Torgau was Frederick's last battle, and Daun's : the latter's 
star had set never again to rise. With the most elaborate 
artillery ever intrusted to any commander in the field, with an 
almost impregnable position, with strong numerical superiority 
he had met a disastrous defeat. He had lost 12,000 killed and 
wounded, 8,000 prisoners (left behind straggling in the dark- 
ness), forty-five guns and thirty flags or standards; and Fred- 
erick's final victory was won at the fearful cost of at least 
io,000 killed and wounded (one-fourth of his command), besides 
some 4,000 who were taken prisoners and carried off across the 
Elbe. 

Pursuit was immediate. Even while Ziethen himself rode to 
Elsnig to bear the news to Frederick, his corps was crossing at 
the heels of prudent Lacy. Back went the Austrians through 
Silesia. Loudon, storming at Kosel, had to drop it and join in 
the retreat. The Russians, off to the northeast near the Oder, 
hearing the astonishing news of Daun's defeat, concluded that 
they had seen enough of Frederick's dominions, and his fight- 
ing tactics ; so faced about, and for the third time made for 
Poland — this time to stay. The tide had indeed turned. In 
every direction the enemies of Prussia around the great circle 
were recoiling as though exploded from an immense central 
mine. The end of the fifth campaign was most triumphant for 
Frederick. 

Still fortitude and courage were demanded. Severe reverses 
had to be encountered in the following year, when the Russians 
and Swedes, sworn enemies a few years back, joined forces and 
ravaged Pomerania, and the death of George II. deprived 
Frederick of the valued aid of England. The end of the sixth 
campaign — a campaign of manoeuvres, not battles — found the 
Prussians hemmed in again on every side and well-nigh crushed; 
but in January, 1762, the beginning of the seventh year, the 
bitterest of Prussia's enemies, the Empress of Russia, was called 
to her last account, and with her death Russia abandoned the 
contest. 

Now began the seventh campaign, Austria and France alone 
keeping up the fight, and when the proposition to submit the 



FREDERICK ACKNOWLEDGED LORD OF SILESIA. 399 

cause to arbitration was refused by Austria, Frederick found 
an unexpected ally in Peter III. of Russia. True, no troops 
actually came to his aid in battle, for they were recalled by 
Catherine II. almost immediately ; but Russian neutrality was 
all Frederick asked for. In May, 1762, he and Daun were facing 
each other on the old ground near Leuthen, but they did not 
come to blows. Their subordinates conducted the fights at 
Burkersdorf and Reichenbach, and both there, and again at 
Freiberg, the Austrians were badly beaten. 

Then France gave up a contest in which she had hardly won 
a battle, and, on field after field, had lost the little military 
renown she had claimed since Fontenoy. The Empress Maria 
Theresa of Austria was left, at last, without an ally, and in sore 
disappointment was finally compelled to sign the treaty of peace 
of Hubertsburg on the 15th of February, 1763, by which Fred- 
erick the Great was finally acknowledged lord of Silesia. So 
ended the great Seven Years' War, leaving Prussia the military 
leader of Europe, with a moral power vastly increased, and a. 
war-like prestige that clung to her until her flag was lowered 
before Napoleon at Jena. 



BATTLE-FIELD 

OF 

TORGAU. 



1. Prussian 

Camp. 



2. Austrian 

Army. 




3. Austrian rear- 
guard undel 
Lacy. 

4. General 
Ziethen 



BUNKER HILL. 

1775 




BY JAMES H. WILLARD. 

HE quarrel between the British Government 
and the American colonies, made fearful 
strides from that day in the old capitol at 
Williamsburg, when Patrick Henry electri- 
fied the Virginia burgesses with the pro- 
phetic words : " The next gale that sweeps 
from the north will bring to our ears the 
clash of resounding arms." Massachusetts 
had been first to prepare for defence against 
oppressive measures and pretences of conciliation ; an appeal 
to arms was now to occur upon her soil. 

The flames of war were kindling. To be enrolled in the 
" minute men " was to receive an honor; stores of war material 
were gathered. The abortive attempt of the British to seize 
such a hoard at Salem, was followed by Lexington, where "The 
embattled farmers stood and fired the shot heard round the 
world." Under a radiant April moon, a British column — eight 
hundred strong, left Boston with all the secrecy it could com- 
mand, on the night of April 18th. Sixteen miles separated 
them from Concord, where patient labor had collected ammuni- 
tion and stores for the patriot cause. At dawn the British were 
at Lexington. On the village green was gathered the immortal 
company that dared to resist the progress of the arrogant foe. 
For, the alarm, flashed by the light in the old North Church 
belfry, had been spread by " a hurry of hoofs in a village street." 
Bells had pealed throughout the night ; gun had told to gun 
the approach of a foe. 
(400) 



A PITIFUL ERRAND. 403 

" Too few to resist, too brave to fly," the handful of villagers 
faced the British ranks. " Disperse, you rebels; throw down 
your arms and disperse ! " met no response from the heroic 
band. A volley of British musketry ; seven stiffening corpses ; 
a solemn hush broken only by the wails of those who mourn 
their dead — that is the story of Lexington. 

Still bent upon their pitiful errand, the British pressed on to 
Concord through the still, morning air. A paltry success re- 
warded their efforts, and they turned to retrace their steps. 
But avengers were gathering. Every step of the retreating 
column was dogged. Grandsire, father, youth even, sent the 
sure bullet from the vantage of tree, bush or wall. Retreat 
turned to rout, as the flying grenadiers streamed along between 
the fields. Death lurked at every crossroad ; at every rifle- 
crack, a red-coat fell. Behind, on either side, the avenging 
militia pressed their foes until Lexington was reached. There 
the British found reinforcements, with cannon to keep their 
pitiless pursuers at bay. But while they could keep the de- 
spised militia at some distance, they could not prevent the irregu- 
lar, but galling fire of the patriots. Thus harassed, their disastrous 
day did not end until Bunker Hill was reached after sunset, and 
they were under the protecting guns of a British man-of-war. 

After Lexington, the breach between mother-country and 
colony grew wider. The contagion of patriotism flew far and 
wide. Connecticut sent the flower of her province to the assis- 
tance of Massachusetts ; Israel Putnam, whose reputation for 
gallant deeds clothed him as with a garment, leaving his plow 
in the furrow, joined the American camp at Cambridge. New 
Hampshire sent John Stark and three regiments of her gallant 
sons. Wherever the tidings of Lexington were borne ; wher- 
ever the names of the martyred dead were spoken, old and 
young flew to arms, raised funds, collected supplies. New York 
espoused the quarrel of Massachusetts : recruits for the army 
before Boston arrived from the banks of the Patapsco. 

While 20,000 men were throwing up entrenchments before 
Boston, Ethan Allen surprised and captured Ticonderoga and 
Crown Point, with the assistance of Benedict Arnold whose 



404 Bt/NKER HILL. 

career was then unta/m'shed by treachery and dishonor. Now, 
the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts pilloried the British 
commander in a resolution setting forth " that General Gage 
has, by his late transactions, utterly disqualified himself from 
serving this colony, either as its governor, or in any other ca- 
pacity ; and that, therefore, no obedience is due to him ; but 
that, on the contrary, he ought to be considered and guarded 
against as an unnatural and inveterate enemy to the country." 
But Gage, feeling his position more tenable since the arrival of re- 
inforcements under such experienced officers as Generals Howe, ^ 
Clinton and Burgoyne, issued a proclamation of pardon in the 
name of the king, to all Americans who would lay down their 
arms, always excepting Samuel Adams and John Hancock. 

On the evening of June 16th, Colonel Prescott was dispatched 
with 1,000 troops, from the American camp at Cambridge, to 
fortify Bunker Hill. This movement was decided upon to an- 
ticipate the British in the possession of the position. Breed's 
Hill, nearer the extremity of the Charlestown peninsula, afforded 
a more commanding position, however, and there the entrench- 
ments were thrown up ; yet the memorable engagement that fol- 
lowed, will always be known as the Battle of Bunker Hill. A 
fervent prayer for the success of their undertaking fell from the 
eloquent lips of President Langdon, of Harvard College, as 
Prescott's band stood around him, their heads bared in the 
splendor of a summer moon. In silence, the devoted detach- 
ment left Cambridge behind them ; traversed Charlestown neck ; 
gained their objective unobserved. Sentry-calls from the six- 
gun battery on Copp's Hill came clearly across the narrow 
strait that divided the patriots from slumbering Boston 
Quietly the entrenching tools were plied until dawn revealed 
the emplacements to the astonished watch on the British sloop- 
of-war Lively. So assiduously had the Americans wrought 
throughout the night, that a redoubt six feet high and covering 
some eight acres of ground, crowned the acclivity of Breed's 
Hill. Under a murderous fire from the Lively, the patriots 
worked on ; throwing up a breastwork toward the Mystic River 
and joining it to the redoubt. The battery on Copp's Hill, 



GAGE MAKES A MOVE. 407 

hurled its iron death among the devoted band plying mattock 
and spade along their perilous line. The tall form of Prescott 
was seen encouraging his men, infusing courage wherever he 
went. 

Gage's first offensive movement was to send Howe to flank 
the American position. Prescott threw up a barrier of fence 
posts and hay, in front of a low stone wall, and held them at bay 
with a Connecticut regiment. Scattered reinforcements from 
Cambridge joined the indomitable mass, crouching in ominous 
quietude behind their hasty defences. Braving the iron storm 
that swept Charlestown neck, Stark led his New Hampshire 
men into the patriot lines ; others came singly. Dr. Joseph 
Warren, a newly-made major-general in the American army, 
served as a volunteer. Pomeroy, seventy years of age, joined 
the ranks, a musket on his shoulder. 

Field-piece and howitzer roared above the crack of small arms, 
as Howe advanced his troops in two lines, to the attack. 
Charlestown, in flames, formed the background to a scene set in 
horrid grandeur. From every height in Boston, shuddering 
spectators watched the opening act in the gruesome tragedy, 
with throbbing hearts. Behind their flimsy barricades, 1,500 
worn and weary patriots, undisciplined, hungry, waited the on- 
slaught of 3,000 picked troops, well equipped, well led, ex- 
perienced on many a famous field. Grimly the Americans with- 
held their fire, yet every man marked his prey as the serried 
columns drew near. Not until "the whites of their enemy's 
eyes " were visible, did the patriot rifles and fowling-pieces flash 
their welcome to the foe. Platoon after platoon went down 
before the merciless fire ; astonished, the survivors stood among 
the slain, then flew in headlong rout, as the bugles shrilled re- 
call. 

In re-formed lines, the British flung themselves upon the 
American defences for the second time. Again, the heroic de- 
fenders met them with crackling volleys that tore through the 
red-coated ranks, leaving ghastly heaps upon the blood-stained 
sward. Dismayed by the withering fire ; bewildered by the 
obstinacy of the patriot resistance ; the assailing troops recoiled 



408 BUNKER HILL. 

from the wall of death, and again fled down the slope in utter 
confusion. 

Clinton brought from Boston the reinforcements that made 
possible the capture of the American position. So disheartened 
were Howe's troops after two repulses, that it was with difficulty 
they were led to a third attempt upon the hill. The British ar- 
tillery tore the rude breastwork into fragments, and drove its 
defenders into the redoubt. Then from three sides, the infantry, 
in light order, and with fixed bayonets, charged the handful of 
heroes who had twice beaten back the flower of the British 
army. Only one death-dealing volley could the patriots pour 
into the advancing columns. Their ammunition was exhausted. 
As the British swarmed into the enclosure, clubbed muskets 
greeted them. Inch by inch the Americans disputed the British 
right of way. They repelled the turbulent assault until borne 
back by overwhelming numbers. Deadly was the grapple 
within the earthern walls. So deadly that the shattered British 
regiments made no more than a pretence of pursuit, after their 
dearly-won triumph. More than one thousand of their dead 
lay around them. A " gathering of neighbors, schoolmates and 
friends " had inflicted this loss upon Britain's trained veterans, and 
then — beaten, but unsubdued, had sullenly retired. Four hun- 
dred and fifty-three Americans fell on that summer day. Warren, 
the accomplished young physician among them — all martyred 
in the cause of liberty. 

The effect of the Battle of Bunker Hill, upon the country, 
was electrifying. Many who doubted before this clash of arms, 
gave in their allegiance to the patriot cause. Raw troops could 
stand fire, could fight. Abroad, it was acknowledged that such 
self-control amid carnage and such precision of aim, had rarely 
if ever been illustrated on former fields. 

The second Continental Congress met at Philadelphia on 
May ioth. The production of documentary evidence by John 
Hancock — showing that in the affair of Lexington, the British 
troops were the aggressors, caused this body to unanimously 
determine that the several provinces should be placed in a state 
of defence. Then a humble and dutiful petition to the king 



WASHINGTON ASSUMES COMMAND. 



409 



and an admirable address to the people of Great Britain and 
Ireland, were prepared. Next came the organization of a mili- 
tary force, the issuing of bills of credit, and the choice of a 
commander-in-chief. 

General George Washington assumed command of the Amer- 
ican army on July 3d, and set about perfecting its organization. 
Powder was scarce in the American lines, but fortunately Gen- 
eral Gage made no sally from Boston. Meanwhile, in Virginia, 
the colonists and the king's troops met in combat, and the lat- 
ter were worsted. Other provinces were lukewarm in the cause. 
In March of the ensuing year, the British evacuated Boston. 
Admiral Parker attacked Fort Moultrie in June, but failing to 
capture it, withdrew his fleet. Then came the Declaration of 
Liberty, the Battle of Long Island, operations around New 
York, the campaigns in New Jersey and Pennsylvania, and the 
Battle of Bennington. 




BUNKER HILL AND VICINITY. 



SARATOGA. 



1777. 




HE story of our war for independence is so 
well known to American readers that but 
little need be said by way of prelude to 
the memorable events which brought about 
the surrender of the British in October, 1777. 
For years we have been accustomed to speak 
of the scene as Saratoga, and for old associa- 
tion's sake the name is preserved here. In 
point of fact no battle was fought at Saratoga, 
so called, and the Saratoga near which the 
gallant and unlucky Burgoyne laid down his arms was a little 
hamlet on the west bank of the Hudson river, close by the old 
home of our noble-hearted Schuyler. Even then it was more 
properly termed Schuylerville, and the modern town of Sara- 
toga, which has grown up around the celebrated springs of 
that name, is far west of the scenes we have here to describe, 
and the two battles which preceded the surrender occurred 
some miles south of Schuylerville — where the Fishkill empties 
into the Hudson — were fought in the woods and ravines of Mill 
Creek, and are properly known by the names of Freeman's Farm 
(September 19th), and Bemis' Heights (October 7th). 

By the general name of Saratoga, however, we include both 
these engagements and the surrender which ensued, and so it is 
understood in England. 

Trivial as were the numbers engaged in comparison with the 
battles that have been hitherto described, Saratoga ranks with 
the greatest of them in political and historical importance. 
410 



ONE OF THE FIFTEEN DECISIVE BAITJ.KS. 411 

One eminent writer, Professor Creasy, places it among his 
" Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World," and as he adopts 
Hallam's definition, " Those few battles of which a contrary 
event would have essentially varied the drama of the world in 
all its subsequent scenes," no American need hesitate to claim 
for Saratoga that which so scholarly and learned an English- 
man has so conscientiously accorded. " Essentially varied," in- 
deed, would have been " the drama of the world," had Burgoyne 
been able to hold out a week longer and join his forces with 
those of Sir Henry Clinton. 

The American army had been driven out of Canada. It had 
been soundly whipped at the Battle of Long Island. Washing- 
ton had abandoned New York and was striving to keep up a 
gallant front in the Jerseys ; but matters looked dark enough 
for the young colonies when, in the summer of 1777, Lieutenant- 
General John Burgoyne came marching down the shores of 
Lake Champlain with orders to sweep the valley of the Hudson 
to Albany, and then unite with Sir Henry Clinton, who was to 
move up the river from New York. 

Burgoyne was a gallant soldier, and a gentleman of stainless 
character. He had won distinction in Portugal, and was especially 
selected by the ministry at London to head this elaborately 
planned expedition. He set forth in high hope ; he took with 
him some of the most thoroughly disciplined and " seasoned " 
regiments of the British army ; his Hessian and German allies 
were old regulars ; his officers were loyal and accomplished sol- 
diers ; but he was hampered by certain orders and instructions 
that were destined to cause him infinite embarrassment and much 
mental suffering, and the worst of these was an imperative man- 
date that he should employ the savage tribes as allies. 

Assembling his command on the river Boquet, on the west 
side of Lake Champlain, in June, he gave his Indians a war-feast 
and a lecture. They accepted the former with customary 
avidity and paid no earthly attention to the latter. Burgoyne 
adjured them through their interpreters to abstain from torture, 
or from the murder of unarmed persons. The Indians made no 
definite reply, and probably remained stolidly unimpressed by 



412 SARATOGA. 

his eloquence, for the brutal murder of Miss McCrea at their 
hands occurred soon after, and, despite his reluctance to employ 
them at all, and his earnest efforts to control the allies forced upon 
him by orders from London, the English general was compelled 
to bear the abuse and hatred of the Americans, for our generals 
found in this one circumstance a most powerful recruiting agent. 
Except as guides, and very rarely as skirmishers, the Indians 
were no help whatever to Burgoyne; whereas by their employ- 
ment he saw, as he had predicted, all the colonists now vehemently 
arrayed against him. Men who had been lukewarm to the 
American cause before, now joined in heart and soul, and even 
the stolid phlegmatic Dutch of the Hudson and Mohawk val- 
leys, who up to this time had been counted on as leaning tow- 
ards the side of the crown, flocked to the American camp by 
dozens, and after Stark's success at Bennington, by scores. 

"All is fair in love or war " seems to have been the motto of 
his majesty's ministry in dictating the employment of Indians, 
and of our own generals in abusing Burgoyne as though the idea 
originated with him. His colleague, St. Leger, did go so far, 
when demanding the surrender of Fort Stanwix, as to threaten 
the garrison with the vengeance of the Indians in the event of a 
refusal to come to immediate terms ; but Burgoyne from his 
inmost soul revolted at the idea, and never could be induced to 
yield to the Indian demands, that they should do as they wished 
with their captives. Like St. Leger's brief campaign, the sub- 
ject of the Indian allies may be summed up in very few words. 
Far more harm than benefit was the result to the British 
arms. 

St. Leger, who was to co-operate with Burgoyne, was sent up 
the St. Lawrence with a mixed force of regulars, Hessians, 
Canadians and Indians. His orders were to land at Oswego, 
reduce Fort Stanwix (or Schuyler), near where Rome now stands, 
then come down the Mohawk, punishing the American sympa- 
thizers by the way, and join Burgoyne, who by that time was to 
be in Albany. Neither of them ever got there. St. Leger ob- 
tained a temporary success at Oriskany, where our General 
Herkimer stumbled into ambuscade ; but his threat to turn over 



ST. LEGER'S AND BAUME'S EXPEDITIONS FAIL. 413 

the garrison of Stanwix to the tomahawk and scalping knife led 
to a defiant reply and vehement resistance, and then, alarmed at 
the mere report that American reinforcements were coming, he 
and his men fled precipitately to Oswego, where at the end of 
August he confessed his expedition a failure, and had the grace 
to attribute much of the ill-success to the fact that his soldiers 
were in pitiable plight owing to the plunder of the Indians. 

In this way Burgoyne's flankers on the right were successfully 
disposed of — a moral victory for the Americans that gave 
great encouragement and satisfaction throughout the hard- 
pushed colonies. Almost simultaneously, there came a gallant 
blow at his left. The British advance had been uniformly suc- 
cessful. The strong post of Ticonderoga had fallen before their 
artillery, and was justifiably abandoned by St. Clair in time to 
save his command from being surrounded and captured. By 
July 30th the army of Burgoyne was encamped at Fort Edward. 
Provisions were needed, and it was known that the Americans 
had large stores at Bennington, just over the Vermont line, so 
on the 15th of August a strong detachment of Hessians under 
Colonel Baume, subsequently strengthened by reinforcements 
under Breyman, made an attempt to seize the magazines. They 
were met by the Americans under General Stark and severely 
whipped, losing nearly a thousand men in killed, wounded and 
prisoners, while the total loss of General Stark was not more 
than eighty. This spirited little affair, followed so closely by the 
news of St. Leger's discomfiture, created a blaze of enthusiasm, 
:\nd from all quarters recruits and volunteers came pouring into 
the American camp. 

Crippled in this way on both wings, and by this time deprived 
of the services of many Canadians, and many more Indians, all 
of whom, said the gallant gentleman, he " would rather lose than 
connive at their enormities," Burgoyne, when essaying the 
advance upon the Hudson, was far from being over-confident. 
He had thrown a bridge of rafts across the river near Saratoga 
on the 14th of August, and made preparations to cross as soon 
as the supplies from Bennington were brought in ; but those 
supplies, as we have seen, did not come, neither did the majority 
29 



414 SARATOGA. 

of the troops sent to fetch them ; and the British were compelled 
to lie for nearly a month in idleness in their camps. It is now 
time to take a look at the composition of their forces. 

On the ist of July, just before the investment of Ticonderoga, 
the muster-rolls show the British column to have consisted as 
follows (and we owe the details to Colonel Carrington) : 



Regulars from England .... 

Regulars from Germany .... 

Light artillery ...... 

Canadians and Tories .... 

Indians (Iroquois, Algonquins and Ottowas) 



3,724 men 
3,016 " 

473 " 
250 " 
400 " 



Total, 7,863 " 

Before the affairs around Saratoga, the force of Indians was 
increased to about one thousand, but such was Burgoyne's dis- 
trust and dislike of them, that they rapidly left him — a good 
riddance. 

Now these numbers are so small in comparison with those 
with which we have been dealing, that it may seem as though 
their deeds were unworthy of mention ; but seldom have better 
troops taken the field: especially was this the case with the 
regulars from England. For some strange reason no complete 
regiment was with Burgoyne, a detachment from each one being 
retained in Canada ostensibly for its defence, or to accompany 
the St. Leger expedition along the Mohawk. All the grenadiers 
and light infantry, some 1,500 men, were organized as a brigade 
and placed under command of a skilled and gallant soldier, 
Brigadier-General Fraser. A second brigade was formed of the 
companies of the Ninth, Twenty-first, and Forty-seventh regi- 
ments of the line, 1,194 men; and a third of the Twentieth, Fifty- 
third and Sixty-second regiments, another 1,194. The artillery 
accompanying the column consisted of twenty-six guns, ten of 
these being formed in a special park under General Philips ; the 
others, light three and six-pounders, being distributed among 
the brigades. So long as he could move parallel with the lakes, 
Champlain and George, his guns could be transported on rude 



GATES SUPERSEDES SCHUYLER. 415 

bateaux, but Burgoyne found them vastly in his way when it 
came to dragging them over the stony and narrow mountair 
roads. 

Some of these troops were left behind as garrisons of the cap- 
tured posts, and some changes were made in their brigade organi- 
zation, but the fact must not be lost sight of that the soldiers of 
Burgoyne were drilled, disciplined, war-tried regulars under ac- 
complished officers. On the 17th of August they were in line, 
facing south within thirty-four miles of Albany, with their advance 
on the same side of the river. At that moment a forward move- 
ment could have been made with far better hopes of success than 
a month later, but, stunned, or at least grievously embarrassed, 
by the disasters to St. Leger and Baume, General Burgoyne 
halted. The American army, poorly equipped, badly clothed 
and shod, and only indifferently armed and instructed, was thrown 
across their path. 

For months the defence of northern New York had been in- 
trusted to a patriotic, energetic and hard-working officer — General 
Philip Schuyler, a man so loyal, so unselfish, so honorable that 
even when relieved from command by a junior who had wronged 
and intrigued against him, he continued to serve faithfully and 
with the greatest zeal, and posterity has rendered him the honors 
he deserved. Daniel Webster himself has said, " I was brought 
up with New England prejudices against him, but I consider him 
second only to Washington in the services he rendered to the 
country in the war of the Revolution." Schuyler was not the 
equal of Greene as a general. It was in his single-hearted devo- 
tion to the best interests of his country that he was second to no 
man. 

On the 19th of August there arrived at the American camp, 
with orders to supersede him, General Horatio Gates, a man who 
had been for some time previous under his command, and who, 
it has since transpired, was industriously engaged in circulating 
all manner of stories to his detriment, and writing all manner of 
unsoldierly letters to congressional and political friends. He was 
a born intriguer — was Gates, and Congress was quite as ready 
to open its ears to men of his low character in the old days of 



416 SARATOGA. 

1776-7, as it was in the nation's bitter struggle of 1 861-5. Gates 
carried his point and many other points with it. He was received 
by Schuyler with the utmost courtesy and respect, which this 
i'l-bred and malignant general rewarded by excluding him from 
the council of war summoned immediately after the new com- 
mander's arrival. 

And now Congress proceeded to send to its new favorite all 
that it had denied General Schuyler, in money, men and supplies; 
and in his arrogance and success, Gates sent his letters and re- 
ports direct to that body, utterly ignoring the commander-in- 
chief. He had overthrown Schuyler, and it is recorded, was now 
bent on the removal of Washington and the establishment of him- 
self in the general command. Fortunately for the country he 
failed in this. 

After three weeks' delay the army of General Gates moved 
forward and took up a position selected for it by Kosciusko, 
twenty-four miles north of Albany, along the valley of Mill Creek 
and close to the Hudson. Redoubts and earthworks had been 
thrown up on the high ground south of the streams, so that an in- 
trenched camp was formed. Nearly two miles away to the west 
and north was a range of hills or bluffs — Bemis' Heights; south 
of which flowed Mill Creek and its branches, cutting up the in- 
tervening valley into ugly ravines. Thick forests covered almost 
every portion of the heights, and the country west and north of 
the American camp; but out opposite the American left, and be- 
tween the north and south forks of Mill Creek, was a cleared en- 
closure and some rude log-houses and barns — Freeman's Farm. 

By the 15th of September the American works were well-nigh 
completed, and were very strong. Behind them, close to the 
river, were the brigades of Nixon, Patterson and Glover, forming 
the right wing. In the centre was Learned's brigade, made up 
of three full Massachusetts and one New York regiment; while 
the left wing — a good-sized division — was composed of three New 
Hampshire and two New York regiments, Dearborn's light in- 
fantry, Connecticut and Rhode Island militia, and the celebrated 
1 vie corps, recently organized in the south, of General Daniel 
Morgan. This powerful division was the command of Brigadier- 
General Benedict Arnold. 



BURGOYNE MOVES ON THE AMERICANS. 417 

Turning now to the British camp, we find Burgoyne rebuilding 
his bridge of boats across the Hudson. He has been scouring 
the country for supplies, and at last has gathered enough to last 
his dwindling army a month. A few "provincials" remain with 
him in addition to his regular troops, but he has but few vora- 
cious Indian mouths to feed. On the 13th and 14th of Septem- 
ber he crossed the entire army to the west bank, encamped on 
the open ground near old Saratoga. On the 15th and 16th he 
moved cautiously southward, feeling his way towards the lines 
of Gates and thoroughly scouting the forests to guard against 
surprise. On the 17th he encamped along a line of bluffs north 
of Mill Creek valley, and within four miles of the American in- 
trenchments. On the 18th a rattling fire was kept up most of 
the day between reconnoitring parties as they met in the woods 
and ravines, and on the 19th of September Burgoyne advanced 
to the attack. 

The buildings of Freeman's Farm lay nearly two miles from 
the Hudson. The main road from Saratoga to Albany hugged 
the river bank, but along Bemis' Heights and up Mill Creek val- 
ley there ran three country roads, nearly at right angles to the 
river, and these east and west thoroughfares through the forest 
were connected with one another by winding wood-roads, quite 
practicable at this season for light guns and cavalry. Two well- 
traveled roads led from the American camp towards the north- 
west; one running between Freeman's Farm and the southernmost 
bluff of Bemis' Heights to the west of the farm; the other fol- 
lowing up the valley of the south fork of Mill Creek. The in- 
stant the pickets reported the British marching down on Free- 
man's Farm, General Gates issued orders sending forward troops 
to meet them. The designated regiments (mainly from Arnold's 
division) moved out by these northwest roads. Gates himself 
remained in camp. 

The American commander may have judged from the reports 
that the British move was only a " reconnoissance in force ; " 
but, if so, he was in error. Burgoyne left only the Forty-seventh 
Foot to guard the bateaux and camp, sent the Germans under 
Riedesel, and the artillery park under Phillips, by the Albany 



418 SARATOGA. 

road, close to the Hudson. Fraser with the grenadiers, British 
and German, the light infantry and the volunteers moved 
around by the road on the heights, so as to be the westernmost 
of the English line, while Burgoyne with four regiments of foot 
marched directly on the farm itself. 

Fraser with his disciplined troops was the first to strike our 
hurrying column. His Canadian friends and the provincials went 
scurrying back through the woods the moment they caught sight 
of, and a volley from Morgan's riflemen ; but wheeling to the. 
left and facing eastward, Fraser's grenadiers poured several rapid! 
volleys into the flank of our forming lines and drove them in 
some little confusion into thicker woods to their right. Here a 
number of the riflemen from the shelter of the trees sent well- 
directed shots at Fraser's tall red-coats and checked their 
advance, while the supporting regiments forming in front of the 
farm arrived just in time to greet with withering volleys the 
centre brigade of the British army as it came marching for- 
ward through the cleared ground. Riedesel and Phillips, hear- 
ing the bursting storm to their right up the valley, turned the 
heads of their columns westward and hurried to the support of 
the centre — and support was needed. Morgan's men with their 
deadly rifles kept Fraser from coming farther towards the east, 
and the firing, which had begun about one o'clock, now at three 
in the afternoon raged around the British brigade fighting for 
life on that unsheltered little plateau. Burgoyne, apprised of 
Fraser's success, had ordered a spirited advance for the purpose 
of turning the American left, but once well out in front of the 
farm buildings he found the woods before, and on both sides of 
him crammed with Arnold's men ; their aim was deadly, their 
fire most destructive, and his volleys crashing among the trees 
seem to have had but little effect. An Englishman hates to fall 
back even when it is death to stand, and the gallant Twentieth 
and Sixty-second Foot were almost annihilated before help came. 
Four light guns manned by forty-eight men were so swept by 
the American fire that they were silenced, thirty-six of the 
battery-men being killed or wounded, and of the infantry force 
not a hundred men were left unhit. The Ninth and Twenty- 




GENERAL GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



ATTACK ON ARNOLD'S DIVISION. 421 

first regiments supporting them were also severely handled, for 
by this time Arnold had pushed forward his entire division in 
support of the regiments of Scammel and Cilley that had gone 
out at one o'clock to back up Morgan and Dearborn. But by 
this time, too, the British grenadiers and light infantry had 
forced their way into the right of Burgoyne's hard-pushed cen- 
tre ; and Riedesel had worked up the valley and formed line on 
Burgoyne's left. The battle was renewed with great spirit and 
kept up until dark without much advantage to either side ; but 
the whole brunt of the battle had fallen on Arnold's division. 
Gates never gave him any assistance, and kept sedulously out of 
the way himself. The British attempted several charges with 
the bayonet, and claim that in the final charge at sunset they 
drove back Arnold's line; but at dark his division with its guns 
was in perfect order, either to resist further assault or to resume 
the battle on the morrow. The British held Freeman's Farm at 
night, and extended their lines to the bank of the Hudson along 
the north bank of Mill Creek. They built five strong redoubts 
and brought forward their artillery, so that while their losses 
had been far heavier than those of the Americans they could 
justly claim to have won the day. 

Gates made but brief report of the affair of Freeman's Farm to 
Congress. He had lost sixty-five killed and two hundred and 
fifty wounded and missing. Neither he nor any of his favorite 
generals took any part in the fight, but did their best to belittle 
I the conduct of Arnold, who, with Morgan, was entitled to the 
credit of conducting so obstinate and courageous a combat. 

In a few days more the feeling between the commander and 
Arnold broke out into open rupture. Arnold hinted that he 
desired to be relieved, and very promptly was relieved of his 
command ; but before he left the camp the British made their 
second assault upon the American lines, and on the 7th of 
October fought and lost the combat of Bemis' Heights. 

It seems that by the 3d of October, Burgoyne found his sit- 
uation growing critical. He had been unable to drive one divi- 
sion of Continentals at Freeman's Farm, and could not expect 
to be successful against twice or thrice that number. He had 



422 SARATOGA. 

received only one message from Sir Henry Clinton, announcing 
that he hoped to attack the American forts near West Point 
about the 226. of September. October came and no further 
news ; the men were put on half rations, desertions began to be 
frequent, and on the other hand, every day brought large acces- 
sions to the American force. Far from their base of supplies, the 
situation of Burgoyne's men was really desperate; and it was 
determined as the only proper course left them to make a 
vigorous attempt to turn the left of General Gates' position, 
or cut their way through in hopes of finding Sir Henry Clinton 
below. The general and his subordinates were of one mind in 
the matter, and the 7th of October was selected for the attempt. 

Leaving strong guards for the intrenchments, the camp and 
hospital, Burgoyne himself, with Generals Phillips, Riedesel and 
Fraser, fifteen hundred picked men and six guns, moved over to 
the right of their line, and thence advancing, deployed upon a 
comparatively open piece of ground about three-quarters of a 
mile in front of the American left. Here Burgoyne's few allies, 
the "rangers" and Indians, were detached with orders to get 
through the woods around the American left, and attack it from 
the rear. The rest of the command would await the result. 

The British line had formed facing south on the southernmost 
spur of Bemis' Heights, with the Mill Creek road directly in 
their front. The light infantry was on the right, the Hessians 
in the centre, the guns in front and the British grenadiers on the 
extreme left. Watchful eyes among the American pickets had 
seen the entire move; prompt report was sent in to Arnold's old 
division, now commanded by General Lincoln, and quick as ever 
those eager New York, New Hampshire and Massachusetts 
regiments were pushed out to the front, formed line in the woods 
south of the heights, and all of a sudden the grenadiers found 
themselves the victims of vehement and sudden attack. The 
three New Hampshire regiments of Poor's brigade had dashed 
upon their exposed flank. 

Major Ackland made a gallant stand, but was outnumbered 
five to one. The encircling fire swept away his tall soldiers faster 
than he could close his lines. The German grenadiers and Hes- 



BURGOYNE'S ADVANCE REPULSED. 423 

sian jagers from the centre were ordered to hasten to the support 
of their English comrades, but no sooner had they faced to the 
left, to move thither, than they themselves were as vehemently 
assailed from their own front. The brigade of General Learned 
and the Connecticut militia had moved promptly from the oppo- 
site woods and charged the slope opposite Burgoyne's centre. 
In ten minutes Earl Balcarras, of the light infantry, was the only 
battalion commander not hotly engaged, in the entire command; 
and, unknown to him, Morgan with his riflemen had crept around 
his right flank. For half an hour the battle was a series of fu- 
rious charges and counter-charges. The Americans dashed 
through the English guns, killing and wounding most of the 
cannoneers. The English made heroic efforts to recapture them, 
but every instant added to the strength of the Continentals, as 
fresh troops came pouring up from the rear ; every instant added 
to the British losses. General Fraser fell mortally wounded, and 
was carried from the field. Major Ackland was shot down; 
Major Williams seized and taken prisoner. The grenadiers had 
melted away to less than half their number, and Burgoyne, cool, 
brave, skillful, even in despair, ordered his line to fall back. 
Bearing the message to the line, his aide-de-camp, Sir Francis 
Clarke, fell mortally hit. But, pivoting on its left so as to cover 
the intrenchments, and face the foemen swarming around their 
right flank, the British force in good order wheeled backwards 
toward the northeast, and retired upon the redoubts and earth- 
. works around Freeman's Farm. The guns were left behind. 
The Americans, cheering and exultant, pressed closely upon their 
over-weighted enemy. Then the Germans in the centre broke 
and ran, and nothing but Burgoyne's cool courage and the steady 
front of Balcarras with the light infantry, saved the little army 
from destruction then and there. Phillips, though his guns were 
gone, and Riedesel, though his countrymen had scattered, both 
exhibited devoted bravery, and strove to steady the retreat ; so 
that, thanks to the efforts of these officers, the British reached 
their redoubts in tolerable order. Balcarras moved into those 
near the Farm, and Breyman with the Hessians into the earth- 
work farther to the northwest, and once more faced their pursuers. 



424 SARATOGA. 

It was at this point in the action that Arnold reappeared. He 
had no command, but, all ablaze with excitement, he galloped 
upon the field. His men recognized and cheered him. He drew 
his sword and led the way wherever he saw a chance for attack; 
and the other commanders, knowing his magnetic influence 
among the soldiers, made no attempt to hinder him in any way. 
The battle, which had begun between lines facing north and south, 
had now swung around, so that the British were facing nearly 
west, the Americans rapidly enveloping them. Maddened by his 
rage for battle, Arnold had called on the centre to follow him, 
and led them in a vehement assault on the stockaded redoubt 
held by Balcarras and the British light infantry; but the islanders 
were here too strong for them. The attack was repulsed, and 
never waiting to renew it, Arnold galloped furiously along the 
line to the left where Morgan's riflemen and Learned's brigade 
were fighting. Again his old men cheered him, and ordering 
Learned's men to follow him, he cleared at a single charge the 
redoubts and earthworks between Balcarras and Breyman, leaving 
the latter "out in the air." Never waiting a moment, he dashed 
still farther to the left opposite this last redoubt, took command 
of Morgan's men and James Livingston's New Yorkers, led them 
squarely at the Hessian-guarded fort, and fell, shot through the 
leg, his horse killed under him in the very entrance, and in the 
moment of victory. There too Breyman was killed, and the 
German soldiers made no farther stand, but broke and ran in 
renewed panic. 

It was well-nigh dark by this time, and the Americans halted 
on the ground they had won, Lincoln's division occupying the 
position; while Burgoyne, sadly dispirited, fell back to the heights 
near the Hudson, above the north ravine. Being closely pressed 
here on the 8th by the dispositions of General Gates with the 
American right and centre, he that night retreated northward, 
passed through old Saratoga, and occupied a strongly intrenched 
camp at the angle made by the Hudson and Fishkill. His losses 
had been very heavy. He had been compelled to abandon his 
hospital and much baggage, and now his plight was critical in 
the last degree. 



V, 



SURRENDER OF THE BRITISH. 427 

The position selected by Burgoyne, for his last stand, was ad- 
mirably adapted for defense. His men, though half starved, were 
brave and devoted. Only about four thousand remained fit for duty 
by the 12th of October, however, and the American army, fully 
thirteen thousand strong, hemmed them in on every side. Ticon- 
deroga had been recaptured, all his communications with the north 
jwere cut off, no supplies could reach him. Canadians, provin- 
cials and Indians had left him as rats desert a sinking ship. Night 
and day the Americans swept his works with grape and mus- 
ketry, and not a word, after all, had come from Sir Henry Clin- 
ton. There was no help for it. On the 13th of October the 
defeated general sent a flag to Gates, asking for terms of capitu- 
lation for his starving army; and the first reply of the American 
general was of so humiliating a character, that Burgoyne sent 
word that sooner than comply with such terms the British army 
would die to a man. By the 1 6th, however, General Gates re- 
lented, and far more considerate terms were offered and accepted. 
The troops were to march out with all the honors of war ; were 
to pile their arms near the river bank at the word of command 
of their own officers ; officers were to retain their side-arms and 
personal baggage, and all were to be given free passage to Eng-> 
land upon condition of not serving again during the war. 

That very night Captain Campbell, of the British army, reached 
camp with the long-expected despatches from Sir Henry Clinton, 
announcing the capture of Forts Clinton and Montgomery, and 
that an expedition was on its way for the relief of Burgoyne ; but 
it was too late. The English general had given his word, and he 
stood by it. On the 17th of October his entire force, sick and 
well, was formally surrendered, and five thousand seven hundred 
and sixty-three men became prisoners of war. 

All historians unite in saying that the Americans behaved on 
this occasion with the utmost courtesy and kindness to their de- 
feated enemy. No signs of exultation, no demonstration that 
might wound the feelings of their brave but unlucky foemen, 
were permitted. 

Congress refused to abide by some of the terms accorded to 
Burgoyne, and his army was marched to Charlotteville in Vir- 



428 



SARATOGA. 



ginia during the severe winter that followed, and it is said that 
most of them decided to settle in America, and did so on the 
closing of the war. 

" Nothing succeeds like success." General Gates became, for 
the time being, the hero of the American people, and the men 
who had labored hard to bring the army into the state of disci- 
pline in which he found it, were temporarily forgotten. The 
hero of the two engagements, Arnold, received his commission 
as major-general, together with a most flattering letter from 
Washington himself. His wound for some time prevented his 
taking part in active service, and when he did return to duty 
— the country knows too well the story of his treason. 

Saratoga broke the back-bone of British aggression. New 
York, lying midway between the frontiers of the rebellion, as our 
English ancestors called it, would have been completely won to 
the British cause had those two armies, Burgoyne's and Clinton's, 
united at Albany. The cause of America would have been cut 
in two, and there would have been no life left to us. As it was, 
hope, courage and strength revived. The news of our decisive 
victory flew across the ocean fast as sail could take it, and then 
France threw off her mask and came to our aid. Saratoga 
turned the scale for independence and the great future of 
America. 




MEDAL AWARDED TO GEN. GATES BY CONGRESS, 1 777. 



MARENGO. 




1800. 



he was 
general 



T the very time that the colonies of North America 
were in the midst of their struggle for indepen- 
dence from England, there was admitted to the 
military school of Brienne, France, as a king's 
pensioner, a sallow, sad-faced, ten-year-old boy 
from Corsica. The little fellow's name was 
Buonaparte. His father was what would now- 
a-days be termed a persistent office-seeker, and 
so fortunate as to secure the aid of the governor- 
of the island, and through his influence to obtain 
cadetships for his sons Joseph and Napoleon. The former 
was destined for the church, the latter for the navy. The 
former studying under the Bishop of Autun suddenly devel- 
oped a desire to enter the army. The latter studying at Brienne 
became so disheartened with his surroundings, that he begged 
his father to take him from the school with its military asso- 
ciations and let him turn his hand to anything else ; but the 
boys were kept at their work. It was in April, 1779, that 
Napoleon entered Brienne. He could then barely speak — he 
never could write — the French language. He passed the pre- 
liminary examination after a fashion, speedily showed some 
capacity for mathematics, geography and history, had no ability 
at all in Latin, and from the very start was solitary, dreamy and 
morose in his habits ; he hardly had a friend at the school. 

In October, 1784, young Buonaparte passed his closing exami- 
nation at Brienne and was passed on to the military school at 
Paris. " Character imperious, domineering and self-willed," was 
what the inspectors wrote on his papers. Here at the more 

429 



430 MARENGO. 

advanced school, the solitary young Corsican was employed in 
studying modern languages, history, mathematics and fortifica- 
tion, and was instructed to a limited extent in drawing, dancing, 
fencing and riding. He had one friend and companion, a fellow- 
cadet named Alexandre des Mazis, son of a poor soldier of for- 
tune. He had dozens of tormentors and almost enemies among 
the cadets, especially among those who, like De Rohan, De 
Marcillac and De Montmorency, belonged to the wealthy nobility. 
When only fifteen years of age the little Corsican, not yet four 
feet eleven inches in height, had imbibed a hatred for aristocrats 
and aristocracy. He turned out to be, to the full, as haughty 
and exacting as the worst of them. 

Cadets of the Royal Military School at Paris were entitled to 
their brevets of second lieutenant when reaching the age of 
sixteen, provided they could pass a not very difficult examina- 
tion. Only those of very studious dispositions seemed to care 
for the scientific branches of the service, the engineers and artil- 
lery. The wealthy and high-born preferred the dash and excite- 
ment of cavalry life ; the indolent, the plodding existence of an 
infantry garrison. Napoleon Buonaparte was sensitive to the 
last degree about his poverty, and now that he had given up the 
idea of becoming a sailor, early decided that the cavalry would 
be no place for him. For the infantry service he had a contempt. 
"An infantry officer," he wrote, " wastes two-thirds of his time 
in dissipation," and the Corsican cadet resolved to try for the 
artillery. He passed, but only a moderately good examination. 
Fifty-eight young men were commissioned in the army from the 
Military School of Paris in the summer of 1785, and among 
those fifty-eight the future conqueror of Europe stood forty- 
second. He was assigned to the Regiment de la Fere at Va- 
lence, a regiment of heavy artillery. Young des Mazis was ordered 
thither with him, and so poor was the Corsican graduate that 
autumn, that after trying in vain to borrow money from a cloth 
merchant who occasionally lent it to young gentlemen of the 
school, Lieutenant Napoleon Buonaparte — de Buonaparte as he 
then called himself — made the journey to Valence at the expense 
of his poor but generous comrade. 



NAPOLEON LIEUTENANT OF ARTILLERY. 431 

This was what the examiners of the afterwards greatest gen 
eral of the world wrote of him in September, 1785: 

" Reserved and studious; he prefers study to any amusement, 
and enjoys reading the best authors. . . . He is silent and loves 
solitude. He is capricious, haughty and excessively egotistical : 
has great pride and ambition, aspires to anything. The young 
man is worthy of patronage." 

The prospects before Napoleon Buonaparte in 1785 were not 
alluring. His total income did not amount to five hundred 
dollars a year. He could not hope to be a captain until he had 
served fifteen years as a subaltern. He soon learned to hate the 
routine of garrison life. His health suffered. He asked and 
obtained incessant leaves of absence, visited Corsica and domi- 
neered over his brothers and sisters, became involved in various 
political intrigues and schemes with disaffected islanders, one of 
which had for its object the expulsion of all Frenchmen from 
Corsica. He was absent without leave nearly four months. 
In fine, he was anything but a model lieutenant of artillery even 
in the days of lax discipline which preceded the great French 
revolution, and when that revolution came on, he promptly de- 
clared for the popular side as against the monarchists. 

It was the French revolution which gave to young Buona- 
parte his first real start in his profession. It cost him some 
trouble and a good deal of ingenuity to provide satisfactory ex- 
cuses to the military authorities for his protracted absences and 
evasions of duty; but the nation was then in need of educated 
I officers. Buonaparte was one, and he suddenly found himself a 
captain of artillery after only six years of very indifferent ser- 
vice as lieutenant, since more than half the time he had been 
absent with or without leave. Under ordinary circumstances he 
would have been court-martialed and dismissed; but the 
Buonapartes were exiles from Corsica by this time, and the 
brothers Joseph and Napoleon were not backward in demanding 
commissions under the popular government. Toulon was then 
being besieged. Napoleon was sent thither as a junior captain 
to help manage the batteries. On the road from Marseilles, the 
republican troops met the enemy at Ohouiles. The English 



432 MARENGO. 

and Spaniards beat back the French. Then came a rally, a 
fresh advance, and the French were victorious ; but trivial as the 
affair was in point of casualties it had this result : of the two 
men wounded and disabled, one was Donmartin, chief of artil- 
lery, and though not next in rank by any means, Buonaparte 
was on the ground, pushed for his place and got it. He 
appeared at the siege of Toulon as major of the Second regi- 
ment of artillery. And now began his career of phenomenal 
success. 

In less than four months after his promotion to the majority, 
Toulon was taken, and no man had been more distinguished for 
skill and ability than young Buonaparte. Brave old General 
Dugommier, in his report, mentioned his name first of all, and in 
February, 1794, Napoleon became a general of brigade. He 
was not yet twenty-five. 

Powerful and influential men — Robespierre, Barras and Sali- 
cetti, the latter a Corsican — were backing him by this time. 
His vehement ambition was now aroused to feverish activity. 
He kept in constant correspondence with the Directory, urging, 
planning, suggesting, criticizing. He was sent on many mis- 
sions requiring tact and skill. Everything he did proved bril- 
liant; everything he wrote was bold and telling. He was called 
to Paris as defender of the convention, and when 30,000 na- 
tional guardsmen attempted to force the palace of the Tuileries, 
he mowed them down remorselessly with grape-shot, and, as 
his reward, was made general-in-chief of the army of the in- 
terior, with his headquarters at Paris. In March, 1796, he was 
sent to take supreme command of the Army of Italy, as the 
French forces operating against the Austrians southeast of the 
Alps were then called. He found but 36,000 half-starved, half- 
naked soldiers, but with them he took the field, and in a brief 
campaign of wonderful dash, daring and brilliancy, he ruined an 
army of 75,000 foemen, winning the stirring battles of Monte- 
notte, Mondovi and Lodi. Five armies, one after another, all 
under accomplished generals, all greatly outnumbering his, 
were sent against him by Austria, and the world was amazed at 
the marvellous skill and rapidity with which he met and over- 




NAPOLEON ON THE BRIDGE AT ARCOLA. {E. Brigard.) 



THE IDOL OF THE FRENCH NATION. 435 

threw them. Utterly beaten, Austria, in October, 1797, sued for 
peace, gave up to France the Netherlands and Lombardy, and 
Napoleon went back to Paris the idol of the nation. 

Then came his Egyptian campaign; the spirited battle of the 
Pyramids ; the storm of Jaffa and Acre; then his hurried recall to 
Paris, for the nation was disturbed by the menace of many foes ; 
and now, as First Consul under the new constitution of the 
French republic, Napoleon took up his residence at the palace 
of the Tuileries and became ruler of the destinies of France* 
But he was in no mood to remain in Paris when the glory and 
excitement of battle called him to the field. Austria was again 
at war with the young republic. Moreau, with a small but 
powerful army, was defending the frontier along the Rhine, and 
Napoleon, assembling with remarkable secrecy and speed an- 
other army of 36,000 on Lake Geneva, began in May, 1800, his 
wonderful passage of the Alps, following the example if not the 
actual footsteps of his great predecessor Hannibal. On the 2d 
of June, to the amaze of the Austrians, he had entered Milan, 
and was again ready to give them battle on the old campaigning 
ground, the beautiful valley of the Po. 

The venerable Baron de Melas was the Austrian commander 
in northern Italy. He had brought thither with him an army 
of nearly 125,000 men. At least 30,000 of these were occupied 
in the siege of Genoa, where for weeks the brave French General 
Massena, with only some 8,000 soldiers, had been holding on, 
despite starvation and suffering, in hopes that the First Consul 
might come to the rescue. But Napoleon needed the forces of 
General Moncey from the north before he felt able to act against 
such strength as that of de Melas, and Genoa had to go. When 
the little army of defenders had eaten even their horses, mules 
and boots, Massena capitulated, and was allowed to march out 
with the honors of war. This left de Melas free to concentrate 
a large army on Napoleon, and forthwith Alessandria, in Pied- 
mont, and Placentia, southeast of Milan, on the Po, were desig- 
nated as the points on which his scattered corps and divisions 
were to assemble. 

But Napoleon too was concentrating. He was himself at 
30 



436 MARENGO. 

Milan, between de Melas and Austria, and determined to give 
the imperialist a severe lesson before reinforcements could reach 
him, or before he could get back homewards. Three superb 
generals were there in readiness to carry out any orders the 
First Consul might give — Murat, Lannes and Victor; and to 
Lannes fell the duty of blocking the Austrian attempt with 
18,000 men to burst through the pass of Stradella and reach 
Placentia. All unaided, with only 12,000 men, the gallant gen- 
eral fought and won the brilliant battle of Montebello, driving 
General Ott back upon Alessandria with heavy loss. 

Then Napoleon hastened from Milan across the Po to Stra- 
della in order to prevent Baron de Melas from breaking through 
to Placentia, in case he should attack the French lines in strong 
force. 

Alessandria and Placentia lie on the south bank of the Po, 
very nearly sixty miles apart by road — Alessandria being a 
little south of west from Placentia, and Milan being to the north 
at the apex of a triangle formed by imaginary lines joining the 
three cities, the sides being a little shorter than the base, for 
Milan is not more than thirty miles north of the Po. Stradella 
lay twenty miles west of Placentia, and here the bold foot-hills 
of the Apennines come nearly down to the river, so that the 
high-road was built through what was practically a defile, and 
here Napoleon posted the corps of Lannes and Victor, and the 
cavalry of Murat, to confront Melas and the Austrian army 
should they strive to come that way. 

Now there was every reason why the Austrian general should 
seek an immediate pitched battle with the French. He had 
great superiority in numbers and in cavalry and artillery, he had 
two hundred guns well manned, horsed and equipped. Napo- 
leon was very short of guns. He had been able to bring very 
few across the Alps, and as an artillery officer, educated to have 
a high trust in this arm, he felt his weakness keenly. It was 
the very best opportunity yet afforded an Austrian commander 
to crush the young upstart who had so humbled their proud 
empire, and de Melas determined to make the effort. 

On the other hand, the French had so invariably routed the 



WATCHING THE AUSTRIANS. 437 

Austrians, no matter how many there might be of them, that a 
feeling of perfect confidence possessed the entire army; and Na- 
poleon himself was oppressed with a fear that Melas might at- 
tempt to escape northward, or move southward through the Apen- 
nines to the walls of conquered Genoa, and so avoid a fight until 
great reinforcements could reach him. Napoleon was far from 
France ; Melas was but a short distance from Austria. Aid could 
reach the latter long before it could the former, and Napoleon 
felt that the decisive battle must be fought at once. 

The ioth and I ith of June were passed in watching the move- 
ments of the Austrians, in concentrating his small army near 
Stradella, and resting the divisions after the long marches some 
had had to make. On the I ith, in the person of a single general, 
there reached Napoleon a reinforcement that was worth a division 
of veterans — his tried, trusted and valiant comrade, Desaix; a 
man who loved his young commander with almost passionate 
devotion — a sentiment that Napoleon, who was pre-eminently a 
judge of men, was careful to cultivate and to utilize. Of the 
brilliant generals of France at this time, Kleber, Moreau, Massena, 
Lannes and Desaix, none stood higher as soldiers than the last 
namgd, and even Lannes did not love Napoleon so well. Kleber 
was in Egypt, chief in command; Moreau on the Rhine; Mas- 
sena had just surrendered Genoa, after a superb defence against 
every foe, even disease and starvation ; Lannes was with Napo- 
leon, and now came Desaix, burning with eagerness for imme- 
diate employment. He was at once put in command of a corps 
made up of the divisions of Monnier and Boudet. 

Up to noon on the 12th of June, the First Consul watched and 
waited, but no enemy appeared to assault his lines. Then he 
could wait no longer, but, at the head of his entire force, broke 
camp, marched westward along the high road, bivouacked for the 
night at Voghera ; kept on westward the next morning, crossed 
the little stream known as the Scrivia, flowing northward into 
the Po, and marched boldly out upon the broad, level, far-reach- 
ing plain that lay between the Apennines and the Po, the Scrivia 
and the broader Bormida — the historic plain of Marengo. 

Where the high road, skirting the base of the Apennines, falls 



438 MARENGO. 

back from the Po after passing westward through Stradella, the 
valley flattens out towards the north, and a level tract of coun- 
try spreads, far as the eye can reach, from the foot-hills towards 
the river. At Tortona the road turns abruptly to the west, mak- 
ing almost a right angle with its track, crosses the Scrivia, passes 
through a little village called San Giuliano, and strikes out square 
across the plain for the walls and fortifications of Alessandria, 
some fifteen miles away. Northward all is flat as a floor, rather 
dreary and desolate. Southward the rolling, tumbling masses 
of the Apennines give shelter in their valleys to numbers of lit- 
tle hamlets, and through one of these, Novi, passes a broad high- 
way to Genoa that joins the main road just before it crosses the 
Bormida, which empties into the Po to the east, and almost under 
the guns of Alessandria. Out on the main road, a league from 
San Giuliano and near the Bormida, stood a little village — Ma- 
rengo. 

Now if the Austrians were still in force at Alessandria, they 
would be sure to have outposts on the plain and strong guards at 
the bridge across the Bormida. The French hussars scoured the 
plain east, north and south of Marengo and found nothing. Na- 
poleon, pushing ahead with Victor's corps along the highway, 
came in sight of the village towards night-fall of the 13th of 
June, and then, and not until then, the brisk rattle of musketry 
indicated that something had been discovered of the Austrians. 
It was nothing but an out-lying brigade that fell rapidly back 
pursued by the cavalry, and escaped in the darkness across the 
Bormida. The cavalry sent in word that the bridge across the] 
Bormida was not held by the Austrians in force. If that were so, 
what could have become of them ? Leaving Victor with the di- 
visions of Gardanne and Chambarlhac in and around Marengo, 
the First Consul rode back, turned Lannes' corps out into the 
open plain where he could bivouac for the night; posted Murat 
with all the cavalry close by Lannes, then galloped for the head 
of Desaix's corps, just entering the plain from the east. " March 
south, take Boudet and his division, go to Novi, and if the Aus- 
trians are moving that way, hold them and send for me," were 
the orders rapidly issued; and prompt and eager, Desaix and his 



AUSTRIA'S ATTEMPTED FLANK MOVEMENT. 439 

one strong division turned down towards the Apennines and were 
soon out of sight. Napoleon himself retained Monnier's division 
and his own horse and foot-guards with him. He intended going 
back to Voghera, where he hoped for news from his watchful 
generals along the Po and the Tessino ; but, to his annoyance, 
he found the Scrivia suddenly swollen to such a torrent that he 
could not cross, and so was compelled to spend the night on its 
western bank, instead of twelve miles farther east at Voghera, 
where he wanted to be. It little occurred to him that he would 
be needed right there on the plain early on the coming day. The 
night of the 13th of June the French army was widely scattered; 
Victor around Marengo, Lannes and Murat out on the plain, 
Monnier and the guard under Bessieres back at the Scrivia, and 
Desaix far southward toward Novi. The Austrian army, 40,000 
strong (with 10,000 more within supporting distance in the garri- 
sons of Acqui, Tortona and the valley of the upper Po), was con- 
centrated in Alessandria, and determined with the dawn of day 
to sally forth and cut its way through to Placentia. 

Now if Napoleon had known the plan of the Baron de Melas, 
he could have crushed him before eight o'clock on the following 
morning. There were only two narrow bridges, covered by one 
bridge-head or field-work, across the Bormida, and the entire Aus- 
trian army had to cross them in long column. General Ott, with 
5,000 cavalry and 5,000 foot, was to turn to the left (northward) 
after crossing, strike at the village of Castel-Ceriolo, which lay 
about a mile north of Marengo, and so " turn " Vict©r's right 
flank, while Generals Haddick and Kaim, with the main body, 
20,000 strong, should assault along the high road and storm Ma- 
rengo, directly in front. General Oreilly, with 6,000 men, was to 
move a short distance up the Bormida and attack the left of the 
French position, and the whole movement was to be supported 
by the two hundred guns, while a large body of cavalry and 
guards remained in reserve under the fortifications of Alessandria. 
It would have been an easy matter for Napoleon to let a few di- 
visions of the enemy cross the stream, then fall on them from 
front and both flanks, and crush them out of existence while 
their comrades were held helplessly on the opposite shore; but 



440 MARENGO. 

he had good reason to believe they were making off in some 
other direction, and did not in the least expect their coming over 
the Bormida. 

And so it happened that with the dawn of the 14th, Oreilly, 
with his 6,000 men and half a dozen powerful light batteries, si- 
lently and stealthily marched over the bridges through the eddy- 
ing mist, deployed on the eastern bank, and were about to move 
southward in accordance with their orders so as to make room 
for Haddick, when they were suddenly discovered by the French 
pickets. A lively fire began at once between the Austrian flankers ' 
and the outposts of Victor's corps. The trumpets of the French 
rang out the alarm in the bivouacs of Marengo. " To arms " 
was taken up and resounded over the plain, and Gardanne's little 
division of infantry came jauntily out from among its watch-fires 
to ascertain what was going on at the Bormida. It was then too 
late for Oreilly to think of moving off by the flank. Unlimbering 
his batteries he turned savagely upon Gardanne, overwhelmed 
him with a storm of grape and musketry, and after a brief but 
most ineffectual stand, the astonished division was driven back 
to the shelter of the village walls, vastly perplexed and badly 
crippled. So sudden, so severe was the onslaught of the Aus- 
trians that the Frenchmen believed that the entire army was al- 
ready across the river and about to assault ; and, seeing Gar- 
danne's shattered condition, Victor made no effort to find out the 
actual state of the case, but began instant preparations for a 
vigorous defence of the position intrusted to him. 

And so passed a golden moment. The oversight came near 
proving the death-blow of the cause of France, for while Victor 
was engaged in strengthening the walls and hedge-rows of the 
village, battery after battery, brigade after brigade of Austrians 
kept crossing the bridges and deploying in his front, Oreilly 
meantime keeping up a lively fire, and occupying the attention 
of the French. Two mortal hours did it take Haddick and 
Kaim to cross and deploy their divisions. Then Ott with his 
1 0,000 hurried over and went on down to the open fields tow- 
ards Castel-Ceriolo, and now, without waiting for Ott to reach 
his position, covered by the thundering fire of his batteries, 
Melas ordered Haddick and Kaim to assault Marengo. 




BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS. (F. Lix.) 



STUBBORN DEFENCE OF THE FRENCH. 443 

Unluckily for the Austrians there lay just west of the village 
a deep, muddy ditch through which flowed a sluggish stream 
called La Fontanone. It made a semi-circular sweep with the 
concave side toward the Bormida, into which it flowed not far 
below Marengo. It was a natural obstacle of great value to the 
French, as it broke up the assaulting columns, and gave time for 
Lannes to form his lines in support of Victor. All told, the 
French had on the ground not more than 18,000 men to oppose 
36,000 until Napoleon could arrive, and the preponderance of 
field-guns on the Austrian side was simply demoralizing. But 
Victor was a stubborn fighter, and, despite the terrible cannonade 
which preceded the assault, he posted Gardanne's broken but 
still valiant brigades in the village itself; upon its left Cham- 
barlhac's three brigades, the Twenty-fourth, Forty-third and 
Ninety-sixth; and a little in rear and in support were stationed 
the Second, Eighth and Twentieth regiments of cavalry under 
their gallant and accomplished leader, Kellerman. 

Lannes moved up with his one division, that of Watrin, and 
formed on Victor's right, his lines extending towards Castel- 
Ceriolo, and even as he was marching into position the shock 
came on the centre. Marengo was shrouded in the smoke of a 
half-score of batteries. 

With the Austrian division of Bellegarde in advance, General 
Haddick charged impetuously at the flashing walls and hedge- 
rows held by Gardanne's men. The Fontanone, with its muddy 
bed, aided by the storm of bullets, threw the column into dis- 
order despite all efforts of its officers. Seeing this, the French 
General Rivaud leaped forward with the Forty-fourth and One 
Hundred and First " demi brigades," and with desperate and 
determined bravery, crowded upon the very lines as they strove 
to form, and hurled them back into the ditch. Three times 
General Haddick rallied and led forward his struggling divi- 
sions, but they could not shake the thin French line on the other 
bank, their artillery could not help them in such a melee, and at 
last the Austrians gave way, broke in rout and tumult for the 
rear, bearing with them the body of their now mortally stricken 
general. Haddick had received his death-wound, one-fourth 



444 MARENGO. 

of the division Bellegarde was stretched bleeding upon the banks 
of the Fontanone, and the first attack on Marengo was a flat 
ind dismal failure. 

Then Melas made his second attempt. Kaim's division was 
ordered to relieve the shattered brigades of Haddick in front of 
the village ; Oreilly was sent well up the Bormida and ordered 
to cross the Fontanone with all Pilatis' brigade of cavalry and 
charge vehemently upon the left of the French lines, while a 
new and more powerful attack was made by Kaim's fresh troops 
along the highway. Once more the Austrian guns were brought 
to bear along the entire front, and grape and round shot were 
hurled at the devoted village, battering down walls and fences, and 
sending splintered rocks flying in every direction. The hamlet 
was almost untenable, yet the gallant Frenchmen clung to it ; for 
so long as they could hold Marengo, there was one point at least 
on which to rest the line ; with Marengo gone, there was nothing. 
Their little force would be driven out on the open plain among 
the wheat fields, and there cut off by cavalry or mowed down 
by the bellowing guns of the Austrians. 

Encouraged by the success of their early defence, both Gar- 
danne and Chambarlhac had advanced to the edge of the Fonta- 
none, and when Kaim's fresh columns moved to the assault, 
received them with a converging fire of musketry that proved 
of terrible effect. At the same time, brave Kellerman with his 
horsemen received word of the flank movement of Oreilly, and, 
moving over south of the road, came in sight of squadrons of 
the Twelfth regiment of cavalry slowly retiring before Pilatis' 
overwhelming numbers. There lay the broad level of the plain 
of Marengo, the very place for cavalry manoeuvres ; there, plung- 
ing through the Fontanone, came the gay squadrons of Austria's 
dashing hussars, the most renowned light horsemen of Europe 
at this time, each regiment being gorgeously uniformed, and 
mounted on the finest horses money could buy. On this sight, 
Kellerman's grim troopers in their sombre dragoon dress of 
dark blue, gazed a moment with eager eyes, then their trumpets 
sounded the charge, and with one impulse the three massive 
regiments bore down on the jaunty horsemen of the empire. 



FORCING THE FONTANONE. 445 

Kellerman had well chosen the moment, for the Austrians were 
not reformed after the passage of the Fontanone, and the charge 
struck home with terrific force and effect. The gay hussars 
and lancers were tumbled over like ten-pins, and rolled fr_ the 
mud of the treacherous ditch. Their array was ruined, dozens 
were sabred or crushed to death, many prisoners were taken, 
and Pilatis' cavalry attack wound up in grievous disaster. 

But by this time it was nearly ten o'clock. Gardanne and 
Chambarlhac were well-nigh exhausted. Defending the line of 
the Fontanone, they had been alternately subjected to hand-to- 
hand conflicts with outnumbering battalions of fresh troops, or 
the crashing fire of the Austrian batteries. The slaughter on 
both sides had been fearful, and with all their daring and deter- 
mination it was evident to Victor that he could not much longer 
resist the ceaseless assaults on Marengo. Down to his right, the 
one division which constituted the entire command of Lannes, 
after gallantly beating off direct attacks, now found itself con- 
fronted by fresh and eager troops and outflanked by the superior 
numbers of General Ott, who had succeeded in working through 
Castel-Ceriolo and now appeared on Lannes' right and rear. 
Here the battle raged fiercely for some time. Ott had 5,000 fine 
cavalry, and these he launched out from behind the village, and 
a stirring cavalry combat took place between them and the brig- 
ade of Champeaux, who was supporting Lannes. The French 
horsemen made charge after charge, breaking in and through the 
Austrian squadrons, but failed to drive them from the field — 
their numbers were far too great. Just at this time, too, the Aus- 
trian engineers succeeded in throwing a trestle bridge over the 
Fontanone. Rivaud with the Forty-fourth rushed out from Ma- 
rengo to destroy it, but his little command became the target for 
three-score of field-guns; it was horribly cut up ; Rivaud him- 
self was mortally wounded; the survivors were driven back ; the 
Austrian grenadiers swarmed over the bridge and, mingling with 
Rivaud's retreating lines, went into the village with them, 
following up their advantage by pouring columns on the cen- 
tre, fast as they could hurry them in. Once, though dying, Ri- 
vaud drove them back, but not for long ; fainting from loss of blood, 



446 MARENGO. 

he was borne to the rear. Then Chambarlhac's men, unable to 
bear up longer against the terrible storm of grape-shot, gave way 
and came drifting back over the plain. Oreilly made an impetuous 
rush on the French left, nearly engulfing the Ninety-sixth, and 
then began pouring around the left flank ; and now, with the cen- 
tre pierced and both flanks turned, it was time for the French 
to go. All was lost save honor. Gallant Champeaux rode in 
for one more desperate charge towards Castel-Ceriolo, and it 
was the last, for the brave soldier received his death wound, and 
there was no one left to rally his men. 

It was now ten o'clock. Hundreds of Victor's corps were al- 
ready in full retreat eastward along the highway. The route was 
thronged with wounded and stragglers ; all was disorder, con- 
fusion and dismay, when " the man of destiny " — the great leader 
himself — came trotting on the scene. With him came the horse- 
guards in their towering bearskin shakos ; behind them marched 
the compact little band of the consular guard ; still further be- 
hind, the division of Monnier. He came just in time, for Gar- 
danne, desperately clinging to the walls and ditches of the village, 
had well-nigh exhausted his last cartridge and was loosening 
his hold ; but the sight of that calm and -impassive face, the pres- 
ence of the hitherto indomitable young general, the disciplined 
valor of the guards, brought renewed hope and courage to the 
French. The Austrian cavalry were at the moment charging 
hither and thither over the plain, for vast numbers had told upon 
the firm valor of Murat's horsemen, and wherever the latter 
showed front, they were stormed at by the guns now advanced 
to the curved line of the Fontanone. The whole effort of Melas 
was directed on the task of breaking down the one barrier to his 
triumphant passage — the stony ruin of Marengo ; but there Gar- 
danne still fought behind the shattered walls, though now cling- 
ing only to the outer edge of the village ; and, just as Napoleon 
arrived upon the scene, with one overpowering rush the Austrian 
lines swarmed over the Fontanone in front of the enfiladed ranks 
of Lannes ; the grenadiers of Vienna burst through the last 
hedge-row in the village, and, charged and broken up by the ex- 
ultant hussars, the bleeding and exhausted Frenchmen fell slowly 



SUPERB COURAGE OF LANNES. 449 

back along the whole front At last — at last the victorious 
standards of the Republic were destined to defeat. Marengo 
was lost. 

But Napoleon proved as great in adversity as hitherto he had 
shown himself in the height of triumph. Throwing the foot- 
guards into squares out on the open plain, he himself stood with 
them in defiant resistance of the Austrian horse. Their cool, 
well-aimed volleys emptied hundreds of saddles, and hurled back 
upon their infantry supports the thronging squadrons in the gay, 
gold-laced jackets. Lannes withdrew his few guns in safety, and 
opened furiously on the advancing footmen of Kaim's division. 
Monnier's three brigades, fresh and impetuous, were directed to 
the right on Castel-Ceriolo, and there made sturdy stand against 
Ott's further movements ; but the left, the southern extremity of 
the line, was gone irrevocably, and Oreilly's men, in vigorous 
pursuit, were pushing along the highway. Seeing this — seeing 
his line of retreat threatened, his communication with Desaix 
cut off, the First Consul abandoned the idea that had first occurred 
to him, that of "pivoting" on Castel-Ceriolo, and swinging his 
whole line around so as to draw back the shattered left, face 
southward, permit the Austrians to march out along the high^ 
way they coveted, and then perhaps attack them in flank. The 
highway was lost already, but worse than that, the left wing was 
so completely ruined that all order or formation was gone. Far 
to the rear, Murat with the reserve cavalry was striving to stem 
the current of their flight, reorganize their commands, and at the 
'same time beat back the horsemen from Oreilly's division, who 
scoured the plain south of the road and sabred all who fell in 
their way. 

On the right, the superb courage and steadiness of Lannes 
and his division saved the army from destruction. Had this 
part of the line gone as had the rest, de Melas could have 
ordered forward all his horse batteries and cavalry, and turned 
retreat into absolute panic and rout; but Napoleon himself 
stood with Lannes, and as the Austrians in well-ordered lines 
marched simultaneously forth from Marengo and Castel-Ceriolo, 
and with eighty rapidly handled guns swept forward to com- 



450 MARENGO. 

plete the ruin they had made, the First Consul himself, Lannes, 
with the division of Watrin, and Kellerman, with the remnant of 
his cavalry, covered and directed the retreat. Austria had in- 
deed won the day, but what was left of the French army was 
undaunted. In vain the batteries stormed, and the dragoons of 
Lobkowitz and hussars of Frimont charged their squares. Right 
and left their comrades were in flight, but the guardsmen and 
the firm infantry of Watrin breasted every shock, recoiling but 
never breaking. By noon Marengo was left far in rear, the 
plain was strewn with dead and dying and covered with a thick 
pall of smoke ; but even now the Austrians dared not press too 
close, for startling explosions that filled the air with hurtling 
fragments of wood and iron occurred every moment. Lannes 
was blowing up the caissons he could not carry away. 

And now de Melas conceived the battle won. Worn out 
with fatigue and anxiety, but all triumph and eagerness, he 
rode back to Alessandria to send despatches to the capitals of 
Europe, announcing that the great general of France had suf- 
fered ignominous defeat. His chief of staff, de Zach, was left 
on the field to conduct the pursuit, and de Zach, sharing the 
belief of his commander that there was no more fight in France 
that day, drew in his extended battle-lines, formed his columns 
on and near the highway, and pushed on eastward towards San 
Giuliano. Even the baggage was ordered up. Latterman's 
grenadiers took the lead on the road. Oreilly, Kaim and Ott 
marched on the flanks, and, determined not to halt until he had 
driven the French across the Scrivia, and gone well on his own 
way towards Placentia, the Austrian staff-officer rode blithely 
forward. 

But "he reckoned without his host," and — Desaix. There was 
salvation yet for France, but only the best of soldierly impulse 
could develop it. Turning his burning eyes southward across 
the plain, Napoleon looked longingly towards the cool green 
heights of the Apennines, to the shadowy slopes where miles 
away lay Novi, whither the night before he had despatched his 
trusted general. He could not have reached there ; he could 
not have gone more than two-thirds of the way before halting 



DESAIX TO THE RESCUE. 451 

for the night to rest his men. Where was he now ? Could he 
be recalled in time ? The wind had been blowing southward 
since early morn. He must have heard the booming of the 
guns behind him; must have divined that his chief was attacked 
by the very army he had been sent southward in search of; must 
have known that Napoleon stood in sore need of his supporting 
arm. But orders required him to march to Novi and search 
there for de Melas. Many another general would have argued 
that he had no choice but to obey to the letter; would have 
turned his back on the thunder of the distant guns booming 
their recall on the misty plain below, would have marched on, 
away from the fight where honor called him, and then defended 
it by saying, those were his orders. Not so Desaix. 

At the break of day he had heard the first rumble of the bat- 
tle thunder, and all the soldier in him leaped to life at the sound. 
Springing to horse he had ridden out to a point whence he 
could better listen to the faint tidings from the north, tidings 
that speedily said to him : " De Melas is not on the road to 
Genoa. He will not be found at Novi. He is here — here in 
force ; we are but a handful against him. Come back ! come 
back !" His men were worn and tired. Late into the previous 
night, all the previous day, they had been marching, marching, 
but this was no time to think of blistered feet and aching legs. 
Calling to Savary, he bade him take a couple of squadrons, 
gallop to Novi, scour the neighborhood, satisfy himself whether 
the Austrians had or had not gone that way, then rejoin him 
with all speed. Then his division was roused; breakfast, such 
as it was, was served ; ranks were formed, and Desaix stood 
ready to march. Soon couriers came foaming back from 
Savary, " No signs of Austrians towards Novi," and sending 
aides-de-camp ahead to tell him of his coming, Desaix faced 
towards Napoleon and marched for the sound of the guns. 

It was the deed of a soldier and a grand one. 

All day he marched, reaching the skirts of the broad plain 
about two hours after meridian, and directing his column on 
San Giuliano, he pushed ahead, full gallop, in search of his 
beloved chief. Those who saw it never tired of telling how the 



452 



MARENGO. 



pallid, impassive features of the great conqueror beamed with 
hope, delight and the new-born fire of battle as Desaix, covered 
with dust and sweat, spurred through the group of generals and 
staff-officers and saluted his commander. " I am here, mon 
general," and Desaix here meant Desaix with all his men. 
Eagerly they swarmed about him, the battle-worn veterans. 
Few retained any hope. Marengo was lost. One-fourth of the 
army lay dead or wounded around its burning walls, now three 
miles behind them; and out along the highway, across the 
broad plain, came the solid masses of Austria. Already those 
dreaded guns were again unlimbering, and at the sight the 
beaten army cowered and quickened its huddling retreat. Still, 
if there were hope of any kind, Desaix would feel and know it. 
All other generals, even Lannes, now saw nothing but a retreat 
until dark, but Napoleon looked eagerly at Desaix, and Desaix 
calmly at the field. " What say you ? " was the final question. 

" The battle is lost, but," glancing, at his watch, " it is only 
three o'clock ; there is yet time to win another',' was Desaix's 
spirited answer, and with a shout of applause the group gathered 
closer around the two great soldiers, while the rapid orders for 
renewal of the fight were given. 

The French at this time were mainly north of the highway, 
falling sullenly back toward the Scrivia ; the Austrians, except 
Ott's division, mainly on or south of that road, strung out in 
long columns, pushing eagerly forward for San Giuliano, hoping 
to beat the French in the race for the bridges, cut off their retreat, 
hem them in along the stream, and mow them down with their 
artillery. Suddenly there appeared across their front the serried 
ranks of a fresh division. Coming up from behind San Giuliano 
and deploying, facing west across the plain, with their left resting 
upon the highway, were the resolute brigades of Boudet, six 
thousand troops that had not yet been engaged — that had never 
yet known defeat at the hands of the Austrians. At the same 
instant, staff-officers and generals galloping among the disordered 
battalions, shouted the glad news that Desaix had come, ordered 
the troops to halt and form line. Gardanne's remnant and Vic- 
tor's stragglers took heart at sight of the welcome reinforcement. 



THE RALLY ON THE PLAIN. 453 

Lannes had already halted and formed front out on the plain. 
Farther still were the squares of the Consular Guard ; and far- 
thest of all, still fighting, retiring from the fields around Castel- 
Ceriolo, the brigades of Carra Saint Cyr. All were halted as 
they stood, faced and deployed towards their right, and so it re- 
sulted that a long oblique line was extended across the plain 
between San Giuliano and Castel-Ceriolo, while Desaix's men 
at the former village squarely confronted the advancing Aus- 
trians. Kellerman, with what was left of his cavalry, took post 
in support of Victor's shaken corps, and the twelve light guns — 
all that the French had left — were posted in front of Desaix to 
sweep the high-road. 

Unable to account for the sudden halt and formation of his 
enemy, but never dreaming that it meant a determination to re- 
sume the offensive, de Zach persisted in racing ahead to gain the 
bridges toward Tortona. He maintained his columns of march, 
and ran stupidly into the trap. Meantime, riding rapidly along 
his lines, Napoleon, with that electric eloquence that ever dis- 
tinguished him in action, was reanimating his soldiers. " You 
have gone far enough, my friends ; remember, it is my habit to 
sleep on the field of battle," he said to them smilingly, cheerily, 
and they reloaded their long muskets and once more looked 
eagerly, vengefully at the dusty columns over the plain. 

Then came the moment of retribution. The heads of the 
Austrian columns nearing San Giuliano came within easy range 
of the light guns, and General Marmont gave the order "Fire!" 
Instantly a storm of grape tore its way through the crowded 
ranks, and Desaix was seen to dash forward in front of 
the Ninth light infantry, waving his sword and ordering the 
charge. This gallant regiment sprang to the front, poured in 
a crashing volley at the short distance of two hundred yards, 
and led on by Desaix himself, rushed in with fixed bayonets on 
the recoiling Austrians, Latterman's grenadiers stood firm, how- 
ever, and their answering volley took terrible effect. A bullet 
struck gallant Desaix full in the breast and stretched him on the 
sward. The hero, the saviour of the day, had arrived in time not 
pnly to retrieve the fortunes of France, but to consecrate with 



454 MARENGO. 

his life-blood her glorious and decisive victory. " Do not let the 
men know it," he faintly whispered to General Boudet, who bent 
over him ; but the Ninth had seen him fall, and burning for ven- 
geance, had redoubled the fury of their attack. They won that 
day the proud title of " The Incomparable." Even as they were 
hurled upon the head of column, and the Thirtieth and Fifty- 
ninth crossed the road and attacked from the east and south, Kel- 
lerman's dragoons came sweeping down with furious shout and 
onslaught through the gap between the lines of Desaix and Lan- 
nes, burst through the Austrian columns, then wheeling right and 
left, doubled them up in huddled confusion. General de Zach 
and two thousand grenadiers found themselves surrounded and 
cut off by the very troops whom ten minutes before they thought 
to be in utter rout; and to his bitter mortification de Zach was 
compelled to yield up his sword, his grenadiers to throw down 
their arms and surrender, and now the Austrians wqre left with- 
out a leader. 

Opposite Lannes the Austrian centre was now striving to 
form to meet the new and utterly unlooked-for situation, but 
Kellerman gave them no time. He whirled about after securing 
de Zach and charged the dragoons of Lichtenstein, driving them 
back on the infantry. Lannes at the same instant sounded the 
charge and threw himself upon the division of Kaim. The 
Guards and the division of Monnier once more turned savagely 
on General Ott and raced him back through the streets of Castel- 
Ceriolo. The Austrian centre rallied around the blazing hamlet 
of Marengo for one last stand, but it was useless. Ott's cavalry, 
panic-stricken, were galloping back to the Bormida, riding down all 
who got in their way, shrieking, " To the bridges ! to the bridges ! " 
The guns, hastily limbered, were being driven madly to the rear, 
and finding the bridges jammed, the drivers were directed to 
plunge into the stream and strive to ford it. In a moment, drown- 
ing horses and men and mud-stalled gun-carriages dammed the 
waters. The Fontanone was once more thronged with fugitives, 
as the Austrian centre fled before the madly cheering lines of 
Lannes. Off to the south, Oreilly's cavalry still made vehement 
charges to stay the French advance, but the horse-guards under 




NAPOLEON I., EMPEROR OF FRANCE. {CliattilLon.) 



A GLORIOUS DAY FOR FRANCE. 457 

Bessieres and Eugene Beauharnais rode through the intervals, 
crossed the highway and charged them with fiery impetuosity, 
and then there was nothing left for Austria but demoralized and 
panicky flight — " horse, foot and dragoon." Abandoning guns, 
Da ggag e - dead and wounded, the leaderless rabble struggled back 
across the Bormida, and as the sun dropped low in the west, de 
Melas, hastening forward from Alessandria, met, instead of the 
victorious army whose prowess he had already vaunted in exult- 
jant despatches to Vienna, a shattered, broken and utterly defeated 
mob. The army was gone. The hopes of Austria were ruined. 

In vain Melas sought for his generals and strove to regain his 
guns. Haddick was dead ; de Zach a prisoner ; Oreilly miss- 
ing; Kaim and Ott without commands; Latterman, Belle- 
garde, Vogelsang and Goldesheim severely wounded ; his staff- 
officers scattered ; all his baggage, all his batteries in the hands 
of the enemy, and one-third of his men killed, wounded and 
prisoners. It was a sorry day for de Melas. He had indeed 
beaten Napoleon, but that victory was his defeat. It turned his 
head. He had gone to tell the glad tidings. Desaix had come 
to turn the tide. 

And so closed the bloody day of Marengo, a day of which 
Napoleon was ever so proud that he named his favorite gray 
charger in honor of it. Yet it was not his victory — it was that of 
Desaix ; and could Desaix have lived, and lived in Grouchy's 
place fifteen years later, who can say that Waterloo would not 
have been for France a victory even greater, even more decisive 
'than Marengo ? 

Few as were the forces engaged, viewed from the stand-point 
of its results this hard-fought battle was, up to this point at 
least, the most important of Napoleon's career. He had lost 
heavily; one-fourth of his army was now "hors de combat" four 
of his generals were severely wounded, and Desaix, devoted, 
daring Desaix was killed, but the army of Austria was in his 
grasp. 

" What a glorious day ! " said his old school-mate Bourrienne 
to him that evening. " Yes, glorious indeed ! could I only have 
embraced Desaix upon the field," was the sad reply 
31 



458 



MARENGO. 



But triumph and joy ran riot in the army of France. They 
knew well that by their victory of this day another campaign 
was decided, and so it proved. Piedmont with all its fortresses, 
and Lombardy (for the second time), were surrendered to Napo- 
leon. Tortona with its citadel, Milan, Arona, Alessandria aad 
Placentia, with their fortifications, Genoa with its harbor, all 
the military stores and artillery, were yielded up to France ; and 
by the terms of the capitulation of Alessandria, Austria let go 
her hold of northern Italy, fell back behind the line of the river 
Mincio, retaining only Mantua and Venice. 

But Marengo gave something more to France. Before setting 
forth from Paris to fight another battle for her glory or her 
defence, Napoleon Buonaparte had become her Emperor. 





DEATH OF MARSHAL DESAIX. 



AUSTERLITZ. 




1805. 



, RANGE and England and Austria had signed 
treaties of peace — France and Austria as 
the result of the campaign of Marengo, and 
Moreau's victory at Hohenlinden ; France 
and England at Amiens in March, 1802; 
but the rapidly increasing honors bestowed 
upon Napoleon by the French, and his cor- 
respondingly rapid aggressions in Italy, ex- 
cited the jealous anxiety of both these 
nations. Made President of the Cis-Alpine Republic in January, 
1802, and declared Consul for life by the French Senate in the 
following August, Napoleon became arrogant — so said England 
and Austria — refused to modify his Italian policy to suit the 
views of the former, and once more the " tight little island " 
bristled with steel ; war was declared against France ; the Eng- 
lish fleets swept the seas and devastated her commerce ; Napoleon 
threatened to invade the British Islands, and gathered a large 
army at Boulogne as though to carry out the threat ; and, carried 
away by their mercurial enthusiasm, the French people by a pop- 
ular vote — some 3,000,000 against 3,000 — resolved to confer upon 
their now almost worshiped leader the crown and title of em- 
peror. The Pope of Rome was called upon to perform the cere- 
mony of coronation, but Napoleon brusquely set the Holy Father 
aside and placed the crown with his own hands upon his head. 
In May, 1805, he was crowned King of Italy, and now Austria 
once more sprang to arms. 

From first to last the most bitter and unrelenting enemy of 

469 



460 AUSTERLITZ. 

I r rance — or rather of Napoleon — was England. Ships and sail- 
ors, guns and gold she furnished in lavish profusion. Her 
statesmen were in every court in Europe stirring up the un- 
willing governments to renewed efforts against the Corsican 
upstart, as she was pleased to term him. No ruler born of the 
people could be tolerated on any throne by aristocratic England, 
and though it was plain to all that France was vastly benefited 
and enriched by the home policy of Napoleon, his foreign policy 
was what alarmed the nations. His elevation to the throne was 
a violation of his solemn obligations, so said England and Aus- 
tria, and now a grand coalition was formed by England, Austria, 
Russia and Sweden with the avowed purpose of driving him 
back to the obscurity from which he came. England was to 
blockade the ports, destroy the navies and ruin the commerce 
of France, while the other nations were to unite, form an im- 
mense army and launch it upon her eastern frontier. This was 
in September, 1805. 

Now indeed was Napoleon in extreme peril, and all Europe 
thought his day had come. 

But they did not know him yet. He was no man to stand 
quietly at home and let his enemies concentrate beyond his bor- 
ders. With astonishing speed, in wagons, coaches, carriages, 
"diligences" anything on wheels that could carry men, he rushed 
his infantry from Boulogne, assembled a large and powerful 
army at Mayence in Hesse-Darmstadt on the Rhine, and while the 
Austrians were composedly waiting for the Russians to come 
and join them in the contemplated inroad on France, Napoleon, 
with his veteran soldiers, now soldiers of the Empire of France, 
was creeping like a cat upon their advanced posts. His columns 
were moving southeastward through Bavaria and the Black 
Forest, and all on one day, with the sudden leap of the panther, 
the French cavalry burst from half a dozen roads into the valley 
of the Danube — all along where Marlborough and Eugene had 
marched and fought in the glorious Blenheim year, a century 
before — while with massive artillery and solid battalions, Napo- 
leon himself appeared before the fortress of Ulm, and pointing 
out to its veteran commander that his retreat was cut off, that 



ORGANIZATION OF "THE GRAND ARMY." 461 

he could not get away, nor could succor reach him, the emperor 
demanded the surrender of his army; and Ulm, with its vast 
stores, supplies and arsenals, with 30,000 troops all ready for 
the campaign, was handed over by General Mack to this aston- 
ishing young leader of men. This was on the 20th of October. 
Three weeks thereafter Napoleon with his army had entered the 
proud capital of Austria. Vienna was at his mercy: the army 
of Austria was scattered to the four winds. France was in 
one blaze of triumph and delight, and Europe was aghast with 
dismay. But more yet was in store for them — a grander tri- 
umph for France, a louder thunderbolt for Europe. The Em- 
peror of Russia, with an army of over 100,000 men, had arrived 
in Austria in the performance of his portion of the compact. 
The Emperor of Austria, driven from his own capital, had 
hastened to join him; the broken fragments of the Austrian 
army were rallying upon the advancing column, and Napoleon 
boldly pushed forward to meet the combined array. He had 
thrice humbled Austria ; now he was to meet and vanquish the 
combined strength of Austria and Russia, and to win the ever 
glorious and memorable battle of Austerlitz. 

For two years France may be said to have been steadily pre- 
paring for war, and in the fall of 1805, as reorganized by Napo- 
leon, " The Grand Army of the Empire " was at its best. 

It was divided into seven corps, commanded each by a mar- 
shal of France who had won his baton by valiant and approved 
services under the eye of Napoleon himself, or by some veteran 
general. They were as follows : 

First corps, 17,000, Marshal Bernadotte ; Second corps, 20,- 
OOO, General Marmont ; Third corps, 26,000, Marshal Davout ; 
Fourth corps, 40,000, Marshal Soult ; Fifth corps, 16,000, Mar- 
shal Lannes. (These corps were soon equalized by the transfer 
of Suchet's division from the Fourth to the Fifth.) Sixth corps, 
24,000, Marshal Ney; Seventh corps, 14,000, Marshal Auge- 
reau ; Cavalry corps, 22,000, Horse Artillery, 1,000, Marshal 
Murat; the Imperial Guard, 7,000, Marshal Bessieres. 

Each of the seven corps was complete in infantry only. 
Napoleon did not approve of the system that had prevailed on 



462 AUSTERLITZ. 

the Rhine of making the "corps d'armec" complete in themselves, 
with full complement of heavy and light cavalry and their 
own artillery. He desired to hold in his own hand and be able 
\o send at once to any desired point the heavy cavalry of the 
army ; and, old artilleryman that he was, he preferred also to 
retain personal control of the movements of the larger portion 
of his guns. The corps were fully supplied with all the light 
cavalry, hussars, lancers and chasseurs they might need for 
guard and scouting duty, and each corps had its batteries of 
field-artillery ; but the greatest number of batteries was held 
;ubject to the orders of the emperor, and as for the grand corps 
of cavalry — all " heavies " — Napoleon and Murat alone con- 
trolled them. This was a superb command, 6,000 cuirassiers 
under Generals Nansouty and d'Haurpoul, and 16,000 dragoons 
under five brigadier-generals, made seven brigades of disciplined 
and heavily equipped horsemen, each brigade being accom- 
panied by its battery of flying artillery; and as for the guards, 
they were the very elite of the French army. None but tried 
and valorous men could find their way into those ranks. The 
grenadiers were the delight of Napoleon's heart ; and the 
Italian regiment, the Mameluke squadrons, the gendarmerie 
and horse-guards were commands that were the envied and ad- 
mired of the whole army. Here, too, the emperor's love for his 
old arm showed itself in the formation of the four batteries of 
the guard, manned, horsed and equipped, drilled and taught 
with the utmost care ; and these organizations, this corps by 
itself, marched, camped and bivouacked always near the emperor. 

Other grenadiers there were who formed a division, and often 
marched near the guard, and were associated with it, but they 
belonged to the Fifth corps, and were led by Oudinot. 

All told, there were present with the colors in the Grand Army 
as it crossed the Rhine for the advance on Austria, 340 guns and 
186,000 men, 38,000 of whom were mounted. When it became 
necessary to march forward to meet the allied armies, however, 
Napoleon had with him but 45,000 men, and late in November, 
1805, the three emperors with their forces were in the field north 
of Vienna, between Briinn and Olmutz, some ninety miles away. 



THREE EMPERORS IN THE FIELD. 463 

Fixing his headquarters at Briinn, Napoleon had carefully studied 
the ground in his front, feeling well assured that it was the pur- 
pose of the allies to advance to the attack as soon as they had 
gathered in what they deemed sufficient strength; and he was 
impatient for the battle to come for the simple reason that the 
relations of France with Prussia were becoming much involved. 
Prussia was showing signs of hostility, and it was very necessary 
that the allies should be crushed before Prussia could unite her 
forces and fortunes with theirs. 

Alexander of Russia and the Emperor Francis were at 01- 
miitz, forty odd miles northeast of Briinn, and their combined 
armies, as they moved forward to the attack, consisted of 90,000 
men. English writers, like Sir Archibald Alison, tell us that the 
French had 90,000 to the allies, 80,000. French writers, like M. 
Thiers, put it far the other way ; but it may be said of Austerlitz 
that there, at least, the numbers of the combatants engaged on 
the two sides were more nearly equal than in any of Napoleon's 
great battles. The anxiety with which he awaited the result of this 
one, therefore, was due probably to the immense issues involved, 
rather than any doubts as to the success of his arms. In fact, the 
advantage seemed to lie with the French emperor from the very 
start. Himself the invader, he yet proposed to fight a defensive 
battle ; one, at least, in which he would invite and compel attack 
on ground carefully surveyed and chosen by himself, and over 
which he had ridden with his generals, causing them to study it 
.with him. His army was in superb condition, mentally and phys- 
ically ; a trifle wearied, perhaps, with their long and incessant 
marching, but hardened, toughened and vigorous, full of high 
faith in him and in one another — a Grand Army, indeed, in its 
discipline, its patriotism and its unity. Never yet had theii 
young emperor suffered defeat, and never should he. Yet, in 
order to concentrate at Briinn in time, he had been obliged to 
call on Davout to make a forced and fatiguing march with his 
corps from the western borders of Hungary, and Bernadotte, with 
his stalwart infantry, tramped all the way from Iglau on the Bo- 
hemian border in two days. The march of Friant's division of 
the former corps was something phenomenal, for with all their 



464 AUSTERLITZ. 

heavy campaign kits, they traversed a distance of a little over 
ninety miles in forty-eight hours, bivouacking at Gros Raigern, 
behind the field of Austerlitz, late on the night before the battle. 
So much for the spirit and enthusiasm of Napoleon's army, which, 
on the morning of December 2d, was at least 75,000 strong. 

Now, on the other hand, there was no unity in the camp of 
the allies. Never having fought the French, the majority of the 
Russian officers openly taunted the Austrians with cowardice at 
being so persistently beaten, and in the conceit of their utter in- 
experience in war, were ready to boast their ability to overthrow 
the self-made emperor single-handed. Around the headquarter 
court of Alexander were scores of young Muscovite noblemen, 
who eagerly discussed the grand times they proposed to have in 
Paris with the coming of the new year. Thither they confidently 
expected to march, and there to spend the winter. The Russians 
were brave beyond question, but their artillery was crude com- 
pared with the French ; their cavalry was raw and undisciplined ; 
their infantry was cool, impassive, but clumsy; and their generals ! 
Napoleon scouted them. In the sharp fight where some of the 
Russians had encountered his men at Hollabriinn, the emperor 
was able to make up his mind as to the capacity of the Russian 
leaders ; and these Russians who had fought at Hollabrunn were 
by no means the self-confident set that thronged about the per- 
son of the young tsar. The persistent flatteries of such courtiers 
as Prince Dolgorouki outweighed with Alexander the advice of 
his older and wiser generals. He was induced to issue orders, 
as though personally, directing the movements of his armies, 
and he was in no way fitted for the command. He had some 
few experienced and educated soldiers among his generals: no- 
tably, Prince Bagration, a noble Georgian of great ability ; General 
Kutusoff, a wily, fawning, indolent, but shrewd officer ; Langeron, 
a renegade Frenchman, who had no business there, a persistent 
grumbler and fault-finder, but a fine tactician and fighter ; and 
General Doctorow, an earnest, faithful and devoted soldier. 
Then he had, as chief of staff, an arrogant and conceited Ger- 
man, General Weirother, who, having seen service in previous 
campaigns, and drifted into the employ of the Russian govern- 



THE FIELD OF AUSTERLITZ. 465 

ment, was given to laying down the law on all occasions, and 
this General Weirother devised the plan upon which the allies 
agreed to act. 

Olmiitz lay something like forty miles by road northeast ofi 
Briinn, whither Napoleon had advanced. Weirother proposed 
that they should march upon the French position, instead of 
awaiting attack; should work around south of the high-road 
joining Briinn and Olmiitz, and attack the extreme right of Na- 
poleon's lines, double him up, throw his right wing back, seize 
the Vienna road and so interpose between him and all his other 
forces in Austria ; then it would be an easy matter to throw him 
northwest into Bohemia, and there destroy him. It all looked 
plausible enough. It was known that the French had formed 
their lines facing nearly east, well out in the open country be- 
tween Briinn and the chateau of Austerlitz, and Weirother easily 
talked the tsar into its adoption. Whatever the Austrian em- 
peror may have thought, he and his few generals were too much 
in the minority to have any voice ; and so the fatal orders were 
issued. In five columns the allied army pushed out from Ol- 
miitz, marched on Austerlitz, and proceeded to do just what Na- 
poleon hoped and prayed they might do, and for which he had 
made every preparation. 

Let us take a look at the field. It is early winter, remem- 
ber; the ground is covered in many places with light patches of 
snow; the weather has been sharply cold and many of the 
streams and all the lakes and ponds — and there are many of 
them in the hollows — are coated with ice thick enough to bear 
the weight of a farm-sled or wagon. Briinn is a fortified town 
in the centre of a well-watered valley, whose streams uniting 
make quite a formidable river of the March before it tumbles 
into the Danube a hundred miles below. Northwest, fifteen 
miles away, rises the rugged mountain range that divides Mora- 
via from Bohemia. Eastward, a like distance, is a still higher 
and bolder range that shuts out Hungary. Northeastward lie 
Olmiitz, Cracow, the head-waters of the Oder and Vistula, and 
the grand route to Russia. Briinn guards the highway to 
Vienna which runs north from the Austrian capital until it reaches 



466 AUSTERLITZ. 

Brunn, then makes a right angle with itself and goes out east- 
ward, dipping and rising over the undulating country, crosses 
the valleys of several little streams all flowing southward, sends 
out an arm to Austerlitz which it leaves a little to its right, and 
then streaks away across the uplands northeastward again for 
Olmutz. These streams unite, and while all the hollows and 
depressions down south of the high-road are filled with ponds, 
they form with their united contributions a very considerable 
little lake, which lies east of but not very far from the Vienna 
road. All the heights were then covered with coppices and 
dense growth of firs, but the slopes and valleys as a rule were 
bare. Here, there and everywhere in sheltered nooks along the 
streams were little hamlets whose names need not be repeated 
here. The stream in which we have the greatest interest, with its 
shallow valley, was known locally as the Goldbach ; most of the 
villages clustered along its banks from the Olmutz road on the 
north, to the ponds or lakes of Satschau and Menitz into which 
it empties on the south. East of the Goldbach and well to the 
south of the high-road the ground rose to a considerable height, 
forming what was called the plateau of Pratzen. It sloped gently 
down to the chateau and hamlet of Austerlitz on the east, and 
sharply and abruptly down into the ponds on the south and 
southwest. 

It was here, on the west bank of the Goldbach, that Napoleon 
established his lines as soon as he knew of the arrival of the 
Russians near Austerlitz. Facing now a little southeast, with 
his left resting on steep and jagged knolls to the south of the 
Olmutz road, he placed the centre opposite the heights of 
Pratzen, and his right down by the lake and facing the smaller 
ponds. It was a strong line and he knew it. It was a perilous 
one if the heights on the left should be carried, but he fortified 
the main height, the Santon, as the soldiers called it, placed there 
eighteen guns in " batteries of position," supported them with a 
tried brigade of infantry under General Claparede, whom he 
required to take an oath that he would die sooner than abandon 
it, and then, giving to Lannes the charge of this part of the 
field, he felt safe. Now for the " order of battle." 



THE ORDER OF BATTLE. 467 

Beginning at the north, or left, was the corps of Marshal 
Lannes fronting the open country on both sides of the Olmiitz 
road — country so open and unobstructed that here if anywhere, 
said Napoleon, will be the fiercest cavalry fighting; so here, and 
acting under the orders of Lannes for the time being, he placed 
the grand cavalry corps of Murat, with such splendid " sabreurs " 
as Milhaud, Kellerman, Nansouty and Beaumont. 

In the centre were placed the divisions of Vandamme and St. 
Hilaire directly opposite the Pratzen plateau, and a glorious 
part in the coming battle were they destined to play. Two 
little hamlets lay in their front down in the valley or ravine of 
the Goldbach : they were called Girzikowitz and Puntowitz. 
Farther down to the south was another little hamlet with marshy 
ground about it — Kobelnitz — and behind this was posted Le- 
grand's division. These three were all of the Fourth corps 
(Soult's), and they with their guns covered most of the ground 
from the centre down to the vicinity of the ponds, back of which 
stood another little country hamlet, Telnitz. Far off to the 
right rear, three miles away, was posted Friant's hard-marching 
division of Davout's corps, so that except by certain light brig- 
ades of chasseurs and cavalry, the ground immediately behind the 
ponds looked almost unoccupied. This was to draw the Rus- 
sians thither, should they have any idea whatever of coming 
that way. 

Having ten divisions of infantry present and ready for action, 
it thus resulted that only six appeared in line ; Napoleon meant 
to keep heavy reserves, and for a definite -purpose. He would 
be content with no moderate victory. If his plans proved suc- 
cessful he meant to annihilate the allies. For this object, besides 
the splendid battalions and batteries of the Imperial Guard, 
Oudinot's entire division of grenadiers was drawn up well to 
the rear of Lannes, while Bernadotte with Drouet's and Rivaud's 
divisions of his corps formed in support of Soult. Napoleon 
thus had 25,000 men in readiness to move whithersoever they 
were needed, and by their weight and numbers burst through 
any defence the allies might make when it came time for Napo- 
leon to advance. He by no means meant to stand and fight. 



468 AUSTERLITZ. 

And everything worked to a charm. He had marched up with 
great boldness from Vienna until within thirty miles of Olmiitz, 
and then with admirably counterfeited timidity, began to hesitate, 
and, as though afraid to meet the allies with the force at hand, 
he drew back his lines, retiring slowly until he had produced 
the desired effect in the Russian councils — until they were in- 
duced to believe him frightened, and so launched out to assail 
him. By the first day of December the Russian army was en- 
camped around Austerlitz, and the staff-officers were eagerly 
scanning the French lines. Napoleon from the high ground 
where his tent was pitched in the midst of his reserves, could see 
the whole eastern horizon reddened with their watch-fires night 
after night, as their divisions closed on the heights of Pratzen 
and reached out southward to feel their way around that right 
flank. Everything in their movements and reconnoissances 
indicated to his analytical mind that they were thinking of the 
very plan he wished them to adopt — that of attacking in force 
down by Telnitz and the ponds. The whole front covered by 
the hostile lines was some five miles in length, and the main 
Russian army, early on the 1st of December, was posted well 
back on the plateau of Pratzen. On that afternoon, however, 
there were signs of movement; guns and dense masses of troops 
were being drawn off southward. " Then," said Napoleon, " we 
shall fight on the morrow, and we will _end the war with a 
thunderbolt." 

The night of December 1st had come. Sharply cold, but with 
not a puff of wind to, stir the mists that rose above the streams, 
the air of this upland valley chilled to the marrow the soldiers 
of France, who huddled about their bivouac fires for warmth and 
comfort. The emperor, who had issued a stirring proclamation 
to them to be read at sunset, now, soon after dark, started around 
the lines to visit the different battalions in person. One year ago 
he had been crowned with great pomp and ceremony ; to-night, 
in the bleak wilds of Moravia, but surrounded by his devoted 
men, he was preparing to fight vehemently in defence of that 
crown. 

Catching; sight of him as he rode in among them on "Ma- 



THE RUSSIAN PLAN OF ATTACK. 469 

rengo," the nearest soldiers, eager to light his way, snatched 
wisps of straw from their rude pallets and lighted them at the 
fires. Then sticking these torches in the muzzles of their mus- 
kets, they raised them on high with joyous shouts of " Vive 
Vempereur!" It spread indeed like wild-fire. Battalion after 
battalion sprang to its feet, took up the shout, followed the ex- 
ample of the leaders, and in ten minutes, all up and down the 
western slopes of the Goldbach a blaze of torches burst upon 
the night, and a grand illumination of the western skies startled 
the councils of the Russian officers. Riding out on the Pratzen, 
one could easily hear the enthusiastic cheering in the French 
camp. No wonder growler Langeron went back to Kresnowitz 
with gloomy forebodings. " You said the French army was de- 
moralized and ready to run. What say you to that ? " he asked, 
pointing to the ruddy glare across the Goldbach — and no one 
could answer. 

Late at night the Russian generals were assembled at grim 
old Kutusoff' s quarters, and there listened to a lecture — " a me- 
morial containing the whole plan of the battle," from the lips of 
that self-sufficient chief of staff, Weirother. He had few friends 
among them; his dictatorial manner annoyed them. Their best 
soldier, Bagration, was not present; the others listened with 
what patience they could assume. Kutusoff went sound asleep 
in his chair and snored. 

It was settled that, at daylight, Prince Bagration, with the Rus- 
sian right, was to advance along the Olmiitz road and attack the 
position of Lannes with all his force, and to keep with him, con- 
necting him with the Russian centre on the Pratzen, the whole 
mass of the cavalry. This would bring the horsemen of the two 
armies face to face on the level upland, and stirring fighting was 
to be expected there. Bagration was to strive to carry the height 
of Santon, and thus command the ground held by the French 
left. But, leaving behind them the plateau of Pratzen, separating 
themselves thereby from their own right, the main body in three 
columns, led by Generals Doctorow, Langeron and Pribyschew- 
ski, were to descend southward from the heights, cross the Gold- 
bach near the ponds, hurl themselves with full force upon the 



470 AUSTERLITZ. 

French right, turn it and seize the Vienna road. " That," said 
Weirother, " will end the battle." 

So it might — if Napoleon would stand still and let them do 
it; but he had other views. At four o'clock, in the biting cold 
of the early wintry morn, he mounted and rode quietly forward. 
At the crest of the slopes of the Goldbach he paused, and looked 
long and earnestly over the dimly outlined plateau on the other 
side. Hundreds of the Russian fires had dwindled away to mere 
embers. He knew what that meant — they were up and moving. 
Riding down into the valley and out still farther among his out- 
posts up the ravines on the other side, he could faintly hear the 
distant rumble of gun-carriages and the dull thud of horses' 
hoofs creeping off to the south. With grim delight the em- 
peror listened. It was full confirmation of his theory. At six 
o'clock he was back at his post in rear of the centre. All the 
lines of France were now aroused and in battle order. Sur- 
rounded by his brilliant staff and all the marshals of the empire 
present on the field, the emperor sat in saddle on a knoll which 
commanded an extended view in every direction. Little by little 
the gray light of the wintry dawn crept over the sky, and the 
fog-bank over the valley rose thick and damp. In low tones the 
orders of the officers of the lines at the centre called their men 
into action. The divisions of Vandamme and St. Hilaire silently 
moved to the front and disappeared from sight down in the mists 
of the Goldbach. 

Suddenly, far down to the right, a few scattering shots are 
heard ; then a dozen — then a rattle and roar. It is not yet broad 
daylight, and the mist is so thick that nothing can be seen, butl 
all at the French headquarters know the meaning. The Russian 
advance has struck the outposts of the right wing. Louder and 
heavier grows the fire ; now the field-guns begin ; that means 
that the main lines are getting in; and now crashing volleys light 
with lurid glare the fog-bank over Telnitz. The lines must be 
in plain sight of one another, then. Davout, at the emperor's 
side, is chafing with impatience. Those are his men and he knows 
how weak in numbers they must be. " Go, then, Davout," laughs 
the emperor ; " bring up Friant and hold them there," and Da- 
vout spurs off at mad gallop. 



"THE SUN OF AUSTERLITZ." 471 

Murat, Soult and Lannes, with their aides, are still in saddle 
around Napoleon, eagerly awaiting his orders. Louder grows 
the roar of battle down at their right, and they are burning with 
impatience to begin on their own account, but still he holds them 
there. He means to give those groping Russians abundant time 
to get well off the Pratzen before making his counter-move — 
but then ! — 

And now at last, over the eastern hills, a dull-red, lurid ball 
creeps up through the fog ; then a shimmer and radiance dances 
through the frosty air. Stray wisps of cloud float upward tinged 
with gold ; and then, then in brilliant, dazzling glory the King 
of Day mounts above the misty veil. The arms, standards, 
plumes and helmets of France blaze and sparkle in the joyous 
light, and Napoleon with flashing eyes turns to his comrades, 
saying, " Behold the sun of Austerlitz ! " 

What wonder that he greets it with triumphant thrill at heart. 
Now at last he sees the heights of Pratzen before him well-nigh 
clear of troops. Russia has massed her columns on his right, 
as he has hoped and intended ; only thin lines connect the two 
widely separated wings. Now comes the moment of his great 
move. " Forward, Soult ; seize the Pratzen — cut them in two! " 
and the marshal speeds eastward to the valley, while at the same 
instant Lannes and Murat gallop to the north to join their corps. 

Let us for a moment follow the heavy columns of the Russians. 
Early in the morning, long before day, the movement begins. 
,An Austrian division, General Kienmeyer's, is in the advance, 
and directs its march on Telnitz. The entire left wing of the 
allies is under the command of General Buxhovden, a hard- 
drinking old personage, who owes his high position entirely to 
the influence of his wife at St. Petersburg. Instead of having 
Doctorow's strong column in close support of the Austrian 
advance, he has it strung out in long columns nearly an hour 
behind, and as for Langeron's divisions, he cannot tell where 
they are. Eager to prove their mettle, and too impatient to 
wait, Kienmeyer's men push forward just as soon as it is dimly 
light enough to see the huts in Telnitz, and it is here that Aus- 
terlitz begins. The Third infantry and the Corsican chasseurs 



472 



AUSTERLITZ. 



of Soult's extreme right are there in readiness, and theirs are 
Lhe shots that first waken the morning echoes along the Gold- 
bach. From behind hedges and village walls, these old cam- 
paigners coolly pick off the leaders in Kienmeyer's hussars, 
and when the latter hurries forward his infantry in support, they 
rise and give them volley after volley. Kienmeyer and the 
Austrians are twice driven back, but then Doctorow's divisions 
come swarming out upon the misty flats, and now the volleys 
thunder in good earnest. Twenty-four solid battalions are 
pounding at four, while Kienmeyer's squadrons spur across the 
lowlands to the south, and dash, sabre in hand, upon Margaron's 
little brigade of horse. But by this time Davout with Friant's 
gallant division is hurrying forward, deploying as they run. 
The First dragoons are sent at full gallop towards Telnitz, for 
there the Austrians and Russians have at last gained a footing, 
and now are forming beyond it to breast the slopes. It is just 
broad daylight down in the valley as those cheering dragoons 
come thundering in upon them, and hurl them into the stream- 
bed, while Friant and his leading battalions dash into Telnitz, 
and with butt and bayonet drive out all who oppose them. 
Pursuing, the One Hundred and Eighth regiment and the volti- 
geurs cross the stream, and there a sad mishap occurs. Some 
of Legrand's men, marching down to the assistance of their 
comrades in Telnitz, catch sight of the forming ranks across the 
Goldbach, and seeing them only indistinctly through the eddy- 
ing mist, assail them with furious volleys, that lay low many 
gallant men, and, supposing themselves outflanked, the survivors 
break and fall back in some confusion. By this time Langeron 
has arrived. He and his men have been detained by getting 
mixed up with the cavalry on the plateau, but now, seeing the 
French staggered and in retreat, both columns, Doctorow's and 
Langeron's, dash forward, one on Telnitz, the other on Sokolnitz, 
seize them and deploy their lines in strong force on the western 
slopes, and despite the heroic efforts of Davout and Friant, 
some 30,000 Russians are across the Goldbach, and the French 
right is indeed in jeopardy. Fast as possible the Russian light 
batteries are lashed into position and open on the French squares, 



STORMING THE HEIGHTS OF PRATZEN. 473 

formed to resist the incessant charges of the Austrian squadrons, 
but Davout runs up his answering guns, and now, far thicker, 
heavier, more dense and suffocating than the fog-bank of the 
early morn, the valley of the Goldbach is filled with the battle- 
cloud of sulphur-smoke, and still yielding no further ground 
but backed valiantly by Legrand and his division, Davout fiercely 
bars the way to the Vienna road. 

Now what of Soult and the centre ? 

Up a long ravine that opens into the valley of the Goldbach 
in front of Puntowitz, lies the little village from which the heights 
of Pratzen take their name. Near here, at dawn, the allied em- 
perors had taken their station and the imperial guard of Russia, 
the Austrian infantry of Kollowrath, and the Russian foot of 
Miloradovich are deployed upon the plateau in place of Bux- 
hovden's main body, which has gone down into the valley and is 
now in furious combat with Davout. Old General Kutusoff is 
in command on the plateau, and Prince Czartoryski is at his 
accustomed place beside the emperor. 

Despite the move of Buxhovden, there are still some 15,000 
infantry, a dozen batteries and a powerful array of horse there 
on the Pratzen, but they are far back from the crest, and the last 
thing on earth they expect at this moment is attack from any 
source. The young gallants around Alexander are already 
exultingly talking of the retreating French, when suddenly the 
skirmishers out at the edge of the plateau begin a rapid fire, and 
/hen, before the startled eyes of Russia and Austria, come falling 
'oack upon their supports. In utter amaze the generals listen to 
the reports. " The French are advancing," and, spurring to the 
front, Prince Czartoryski comes in view of a picture that sends 
him back with blanching cheek, brave as he is, to the side of his 
emperor. It is indeed true, The valley of the Goldbach is crowded 
with the solid battalions, and in two powerful columns the men 
of Vandamme and St. Hilaire, laughing at the sputtering skir- 
mish fire, are jauntily, eagerly swarming up the western slope of 
the Pratzen. Already the leading light-troops are springing up the 
ravine and driving the Russian skirmishers out of the village, 
and, north and south, Vandamme and St. Hilaire are deploying 
32 



474 AUSTERLITZ. 

their lines preparatory to a general advance. Thiebault's brig- 
ade on the flank meets with a sudden volley from some Russian 
regiments lying in the ravine about Pratzen. Its general daringly 
rides forward, facing his ready men towards the fire, and with a 
ringing cheer leads them into the depression .in search of their 
foe. In five minutes those Russians are surrounded, overpow- 
ered and disarmed, and Thiebault is once more forming line to 
the support of General Morand, now advancing on the Russian 
headquarters, while Vandamme's whole division, firing by bat- 
talion as they move forward in line, are steadily driving back 
the foremost lines of Miloradovich's Russians, and gradually 
encircling the knoll or hillock of Stari Winobradi which com- 
mands the plateau, and on which Kutusoff has planted his 
heaviest batteries supported by strong masses of infantry. In 
front of St. Hilaire's lines the French light batteries ^moving 
forward at rapid trot suddenly unlimber and deluge the Austrian 
division with grape. Kollowrath's men are thrown into the 
utmost disorder by the storm, and St. Hilaire follows up the 
batteries by a rousing charge with the bayonet, driving the 
Austrians pell-mell back towards Austerlitz. Vandamme, further 
north, has had equal success. The Russian lines are broken and 
drifting eastward ; Stari Winobradi with all its guns is taken by 
the rush of the Fourth regiment and the Twenty-fourth light 
infantry, Vandamme leading them in person. 

Ten o'clock is near at hand, and the Russian army that at 
dawn had set forth to turn the French right finds itself in ex- 
traordinary plight. Crowded between the ponds and those in- 
flexible lines of Friant's and Legrand's, stupid, half-drunken old 
Buxhovden is unable to act with any success, and to the dismay 
of the allied emperors Soult has seized the whole plateau of 
Pratzen, the Russian centre is pierced, and Kollowrath and 
Miloradovich are in full retreat on Austerlitz. 

Now was the time for Kutusoff, had he been alive to the sit- 
uation, to recall the columns of Langeron and Doctorow and, 
reascending the heights from the south, take Soult in flank; but 
Napoleon was prepared even for that contingency. Delightedly 
watching the grand assault of his centre on the plateau, and see- 



FORWARD! IMPERIAL GUARD. 475 

ing the two wings of the allies now thrown wide apart, he calls 
up the corps of Bernadotte, the glorious Imperial Guard and 
Oudinot's grenadiers, and with 25,000 fresh men at his back, 
crosses the Goldbach, and by eleven o'clock his entire reserve 
is deployed on the Pratzen. 

Thanks to the vehement efforts of old KutusofT, who rides 
storming, swearing and bleeding through the crowd of fugitives, 
and to the admirable conduct of Miloradovich, the allies are 
brought up standing near the eastern base of the plateau, and 
here, aligned on the strong division of the Russian imperial 
guard, they await with greater confidence the renewed advance 
of Soult. They are strong enough now to engulf him com- 
pletely, provided he is not promptly supported. They cannot 
see that the French emperor with all his grand reserve is now 
climbing the slopes far behind him, and with a renewal of hope 
they align their ranks and wait. For half an hour there is a lull 
in the battle on the heights. Now let us go northward and 
look after Lannes and the cavalry corps of Murat. 

All this time they have been engaged in a brilliant battle of 
their own. 

Not waiting for Prince Bagration to attack him, Marshal 
Lannes had formed the left wing in beautiful order, and, the 
moment he saw the columns of Soult climbing the slopes of 
the Pratzen, marched forward across the glistening plain in his 
front. 

North of the Olmiitz road were numerous fir-covered knolls 
and ridges. South of it, open and rolling and bare, the land 
sloped very gradually up to the Pratzen heights, and here, his 
guns and infantry sweeping the road and the broken country 
north of it, and with all the superb Austrian cavalry and rugged 
Russian horse drawn up in the open ground to the south, Prince 
Bagration had been " waiting orders." He was not present at the 
" lecture " of Weirother the night before, and not until after eight 
o'clock did he receive from that valuable staff-officer his instruc- 
tions for the day. Lannes and Murat relieved him of any un- 
certainty he might have felt, however, for even as he was study- 
ing with vague anxiety the steady advance of Soult on the 



476 AUSTERLITZ. 

allied centre, he found himself fiercely attacked. Suchet's 
division north of the road, Caffarelli's to the south, had assaulted 
his lines, while, covering the open upland, the glittering array 
of Murat's horsemen advanced at steady walk in support. In 
spite of the vigorous service of his batteries, Bagration found 
that Caffarelli's division was driving in his left, and now he gave 
the order to Prince John of Lichtenstein, commanding the allied 
cavalry, to charge to the rescue. Then began the magnificent 
cavalry combat of Austerlitz. Just as Napoleon had anticipated, 
the open upland was the scene, and some 30,000 horse the 
actors. Constantine's division of Hulans of the Russian corps 
were hurled in on Caffarelli's infantry. The latter quickly 
sprang into squares, while Kellerman, waiting until the Hulans 
had become well broken up by the fire of the infantry, held his 
light horse in readiness. The flashing volleys of the French 
linesmen answered the savage yell of the Russian cavalry. Four 
hundred of the Hulans, with their general, Essen, were stretched 
upon the ground ; then with ringing trumpet-call and flashing 
sabres Kellerman's hussars tore down upon them. Lichtenstein 
sent a fresh brigade to their assistance. Murat launched in the 
division of dragoons. The ground shook with the thunder of 
their hoofs, and, in smoke, dust and terrific din, the horsemen of 
France and Russia crashed together in mighty struggle. For 
some time the infantry could only cease firing and look on ; the 
gunners dropped their sponge-staves and hand-spikes, and clam- 
bered on the limbers for a better view. At last, without decided 
gain to either side, the horsemen were called off, leaving the 
ground strewn with dead and wounded troopers and chargers. 
Then the infantry again pressed forward, though mowed down 
by the missiles of forty Russians guns. Caffarelli's division 
south of the road made splendid progress, though General 
Valhabert was cruelly wounded, and Colonel Castex, charging 
the hamlet held by the detachment of the Russian guard, was 
killed at the head of the Thirteenth light infantry. 

Suchet's division was having a harder time. Prince Bagra- 
tion had at last received his orders to assault the Santon. His 
left was already driven in, but he struck out boldly with his 



THE RUSSIAN RIGHT RUINED. 477 

right, through the rugged country north of the road. Suchet's 
guns and footmen, however, made superb stand, and the Russian 
infantry, finding itself in danger of being outflanked on the 
left, began slowly to fall back. Suchet at once pressed forward 
in pursuit, firing as he went, and driving rapidly ahead along the 
highway. Seeing this, Lannes delightedly ordered Murat to 
follow up the move, urged forward Suchet's right and Caffa- 
relli's left, and then with a superb stroke of genius wheeled 
them pivoting on their outer flanks, so that Suchet, swinging 
around to the left, swept all Bagration's infantry north of the 
Olmiitz road. Caffarelli sent the cavalry whirling back before 
his volleys towards the Pratzen. The grand divisions of Nan- 
souty's and D'Haurpoul's cuirassiers burst forward to hold the 
interval thus created between the foot divisions, and, fighting a 
battle of his own, Lannes, the hero of Montebello, had split in 
twain the Russian right wing — a second wedge had torn through 
the allied line. In vain Lichtenstein hurled in his horsemen to 
charge Caffarelli's flank. Four thousand iron-clad swordsmen 
with tremendous impact met their charge, overwhelmed, over- 
turned and crushed them. The last of Lichtenstein's troopers 
scurried off for Austerlitz, and appeared no more upon the 
scene. The Russian right was ruined. 

And now the combat is again raging on the Pratzen. Kutusoff 
has rallied and reformed the strong divisions of Miloradovich and 
Kollowrath upon the yet unengaged line of the Imperial Guard 
of Russia; and one fine brigade of Langeron's command, 
Kamenski's, hearing the uproar on the plateau they had so re 
cently quitted, has faced about, reascended the slopes, and is 
now pouring in its heavy volleys on the flank of Soult's 
extreme right. General Langeron himself, disgusted with the 
way things are going in the neighborhood of Telnitz, and be- 
lieving that old Buxhovden is sacrificing the army in his besotted 
condition, comes spurring up the heights and instantly assumes 
command at the south end of the Pratzen. Thiebault's brigade 
of St. Hilaire's division is thus enclosed with a wall of fire, and 
Colonel Pouzet, of the Tenth light infantry, eagerly implores of 
St. Hilaire permission to charge with the bayonet, as the only 



478 AUSTERLITZ. 

soldierly means of escaping the carnage. " Forward ! " is the 
order, and with a glad, fierce, ringing battle-cry the three regi- 
ments spring upon the opposing lines, not forty yards away, 
drive Kamenski's men helter-skelter down the southern slopes, 
and then turn furiously on Kollowrath's half-shaken Austrians. 
It is the last stand the latter make. Thiebault never sounds the 
recall until his men have chased them well down the eastern 
slopes across the Austerlitz road ; and now the Russian left is 
cut off from the centre, for St. Hilaire promptly posts the re- 
forming brigade to hold the ground thus won, while under the! 
eye of Napoleon himself, Vandamme, supported by the grand 
reserve, sweeps forward to demolish the allied centre. 

Too brave to retreat farther, the Emperors of Austria and 
Russia have rallied their staunchest troops around the imperial 
standards well to the northeast of the burning roofs of Pratzen, 
and in full view of the chateau and hamlet of Austerlitz. 

The eager charge of Thiebault's brigade is seen and envied 
by all the extended lines of St. Hilaire and Vandamme, and the 
latter, finding it impossible to restrain the impatience of his men 
until the heavy supports arrive, gives way to their impulse and 
lets them go. The charge is superb, but in the tumult and con- 
fusion that follow, some of the men cannot be made to hear the 
repeated orders and signals to halt and reform. Thus it hap- 
pens that the Fourth regiment of the line goes tearing down the 
slopes in mad pursuit, and suddenly finds itself tangled up in a 
thick vineyard and far ahead of the foremost lines ; and here 
they are suddenly charged by a dozen strong squadrons of the 
Russian horse-guards. Napoleon, arriving at the eastern slope 
at this moment, launches in his own Mameluke squadrons and 
the chasseurs of the guard to the rescue. " They are in disorder 
there," he says to Rapp, the gallant aide-de-camp, who, with 
Savary, had been " adopted " in the military family of the em- 
peror from the staff of the dead Desaix. " That must be set to 
rights," and Rapp himself leads the horsemen in their dash. 
Down the slopes they go with thundering hoofs, with brilliant 
turbans and flashing scimetars, the chasseurs racing alongside ; 
and despite the furious bellowings of the Russian guns, Rapp 



THE SECOND GREAT CAVALRY COMBAT. 479 

leads them through and over the Russian line and well in on 
the reserves. " Quick, Bessieres, support him," are Napoleon's 
prompt orders to the general of the guard, as all eyes follow the 
daring charge of the aide-de-camp ; and Bessieres, taking the 
order literally, calls on the horse-grenadiers in their towering 
bearskin caps and himself leads them down. Just in time, too, 
for Rapp has dashed into the very jaws of the Russian bear ; 
the Grand Duke Constantine has closed on him with the entire 
division of imperial horse-guards under their brave chief, Prince 
Repnin. Rapp is savagely hacked with sabres, but cannot be 
unhorsed. Colonel Morland, of the French chasseurs, is killed, 
and it would soon be all over with the light-armed Mamelukes 
and chasseurs but for the tremendous onset of Bessieres with the 
" heavies ; " and now ensues the second great cavalry combat of 
Austerlitz. Guardsmen against guardsmen under the very eyes 
of the emperors. Either sovereign at this moment could send 
the grape of his batteries into the group of the opposite head- 
quarters ; but artillery, infantry and all cease firing in that im- 
mediate vicinity for three or four minutes to watch this battle of 
the giants. Only for a very few minutes, however, for in less 
than five, the war-trained swordsmen of Napoleon hew their way 
through the Muscovite squadrons, bend them back, burst beyond 
and drive them rearwards in broken flight; while Rapp, covered 
with blood, rides back to his emperor, leading with him Prince 
Repnin, a prisoner. 

. And now, following up this great triumph, Bernadotte, whose 
'men have not yet had a chance to pull trigger, pushes forward 
Drouet's division upon the fort-guards of Alexander, while Van- 
damme still storms at Miloradovich ; and these fresh troops, in- 
spired by the success of their comrades and determined to be 
satisfied with nothing less complete, leap forward to the charge 
on the one solidly standing remnant of the grand centre of that 
morning. The imperial guardsmen of Russia prove to be in- 
ferior in mettle, for, seeing all broken to their right and left, their 
stand is but a short one. In a few minutes they are driven back 
into the hamlet of Kresnowitz; from there out on the open slopes, 
and now not one of the allies remains fighting on the plateau of 
Pratzen. 



480 AUSTERLITZ. 

It is one o'clock. The sun has been shining in cloudless splen- 
dor throughout the brilliant wintry day, yet the smoke of battle 
hangs dark over the slopes to the east and south. Well back on 
the plateau, in the full radiance of the unobscured sun, stands 
the imperial guard of France, with its batteries, with Oudinot's 
grenadiers, with much of its cavalry, with more than half of 
Bernadotte's corps, and these men have not been engaged at all. 
Austerlitz has been won without them — for won it is. 

Far to the north, Prince Bagration is held powerless in front 
of Suchet ; the rest of the Russian right is scattering everywhere 
over the open country. The centre is pounded to pieces and is 
falling back in disorder through Austerlitz, and making for the 
Olmiitz road. The plateau is won to France, the allied army 
thrown wide asunder; but, down there under the southern slopes, 
down there towards the ponds and Telnitz, its grand left wing, 
over 30,000 strong, is still fighting furiously in the confined 
space ; and now comes their turn. We have said that Napo- 
leon would be content with no mere victory. He means to 
crush out the power of his opponents. Now he proceeds to 
do it. 

Leaving Bernadotte with his corps, and the panting divisions 
of Vandamme and St. Hilaire to hold the Pratzen and to sup- 
port him, should he need support, Napoleon now faces south- 
ward ; calls upon the guard and Oudinot, and with these, the 
flower of his grand army, the emperor marches to envelop the 
wing of Buxhovden. 

He comes none too soon. Davout and Friant are well-nigh 
exhausted. With less than 10,000 men they have been keeping 
at bay for hours a force four times as great, although most 
clumsily handled ; but close under the heights at Sokolnitz, 
Pribyschewski's and Langeron's infantry were now rapidly gain- 
ing ground. Legrand, on the western bank, is about ready to 
let go his hold on the village. Friant, galloping to and fro, has 
had four horses killed under him, and his men are sadly dimin- 
ished in numbers. It looks as though at last Sokolnitz must go, 
and the Russians win the way to the Vienna road; but suddenly, 
marching down the slopes behind the dense masses on the east- 



ANNIHILATING BUXHOVDEN'S DIVISION. 481 

ern bank, come heavy columns of infantry, over whose heads 
are waving the beautiful tricolor and dazzling eagles of France. 
Half expecting such a catastrophe, Langeron calls off such men 
as he can control, and rapidly runs back southward to Buxhov- 
den's position; but most of his men and Pribyschewski's are 
caught between two galling fires. Rapidly the French columns 
deploy into advancing lines, firing steadily, fast as they can re- 
load, and Legrand's and Friant's men redouble their efforts on 
the western shore. It is more than the Russians — more than any 
troops could be expected to stand. They break up into disorder; 
some rush off one way, some another, and hundreds are shot 
down or taken prisoners right there. Langeron, in a fury of 
excitement and rage, gallops up to Buxhovden, who has been an 
inert spectator of the scene, though Doctorow's powerful col- 
umn is there near him at Telnitz. The excitable Frenchman has 
been doing his best for his adopted country this day, and now 
he vehemently points out to Buxhovden the new danger- — the 
swarms of enemies descending upon them from the Pratzen. 

" You see nothing but enemies everywhere," is Buxhovden's 
thick reply. 

"And you are not in a state to see them anywhere," is Lang- 
eron's insubordinate but deserved retort. It is too late to do 
anything, however. By this time Vandamme's division is rested, 
and Napoleon, still reserving his guards for an emergency, sends 
his linesmen charging down the slopes upon the flank and rear of 
Doctorow's men. Buxhovden shouts to Doctorow to save him- 
self as best as he can, puts spurs to his horse and gallops off 
between the ponds and the Pratzen in front of the advancing 
lines. Several hundred soldiers escape with him that way, but 
Langeron and Doctorow stand and fight like brave men. Now, 
however, they are being assailed by nearly equal numbers from 
two sides, and they can see that the heights are crowned by the 
French guard. All is over then. There is no hope for support, 
no safety but in retreat. The batteries of the guard, unlim- 
bering on the crest, thunder over the heads of Vandamme's men 
and send their missiles crashing through the crowded hosts of 
Russians. In vain their generals strive to steady them. First 



482 AUSTERLITZ. 

in squads, then in crowds, then in solid masses they are surging 
back ; only one line of escape is possible : those smooth-faced, 
frozen ponds. Dozens of the slightly wounded are already well 
across them. Then dozens of the stragglers begin to scurry 
over. Then crowds of the fugitives are thronging out on the 
new ice, horsemen begin to appear here and there in the crowds, 
the groups thicken into a compact mass, and then — then comes 
a backward rush, a fearful cry, and first there is a bending, 
swaying in the icy flooring, then with loud crash it gives way, 
and with despairing shrieks thousands of men are struggling in 
the waters. It is an awful moment, but worse is to come. The 
ice holds firm on one or two of the smaller ponds, and across 
these hundreds of fugitives are hastening. Napoleon relentlessly 
orders his gunners to load with solid shot, and from the plung- 
ing heights of the Pratzen to shower them down on the ice itself, 
and now the scene baffles all description. Doctorow's men are es- 
caping the death of soldiers at the front, only to meet the death 
of worthless curs at the rear. The French guns smash their 
frail ice raft, they are plunged in the death-cold waters and 
drowned in helpless misery. 

But Doctorow still has a fine division of infantry that stands 
firm — all Buxhovden's guns and the Austrian cavalry. With 
these he makes gallant defence, slowly retiring up the slopes 
south of the ponds and resisting all efforts to break him. Cav- 
alry being needed, Beaumont's division of dragoons from Murat's 
corps comes over from the extreme left and is sent in to capture 
the guns and scatter Kienmeyer's cavalry. They succeed in 
driving off the worn-out Austrian horse, but the staunch foot- 
men of Doctorow stand by their guns and Beaumont cannot 
wrest them away. Soult's infantry pressing forward with well- 
aimed volleys succeed at last in shooting down horses, drivers, 
gunners and supports. The guns are rushed upon and seized. 
Friant's division crosses the Goldbach and attacks Doctorow's 
remnant in flank, and at last, abandoned, harassed and worn out, 
hundreds of officers and men beg for quarter and throw down 
their arms ; others slowly and painfully continue the retreat tow- 
ard the eastward. 



"SOLDIERS, I AM SATISFIED WITH YOU." 483 

Long before sunsi t, sitting in his saddle on the summit of 
the Pratzen, Napoleon could see, for miles around, the wintry 
landscape black with fleeing foemen. Right, left and front the 
lancers and hussars were pushed out to complete the work and 
bring in the prisoners, and, as the Sun of Austerlitz sank lower 
in the west and the chill of evening stole over the scene, and the 
upland breeze began to sweep away the last vestiges of sulphur 
smoke still clinging about the ravines and hollows, the great 
leader dismounted at his camp-fire wearied but triumphant. 
"The Battle of the Emperors" — the never-to-be-forgotten field 
of Austerlitz — was won. 

" Soldiers, I am satisfied with you," he wrote. " In the battle 
of Austerlitz you have justified all that I expected from your 
intrepidity ; you have decorated your eagles with immortal 
glory. An army of one hundred thousand men, commanded 
by the Emperors of Russia and Austria, has been in less than 
four hours either cut in pieces or dispersed. Those who escaped 
your weapons are drowned in the lakes. 

" Forty colors, the standards of the imperial guard of Russia, 
one hundred and twenty pieces of cannon, more than thirty 
thousand prisoners, are the result of this ever celebrated battle. 
That infantry, so highly vaunted and superior in number, could 
not withstand your shocks, and thenceforward you have no 
rivals to fear. Thus in two months this third coalition has been 
vanquished and dissolved. Peace cannot now be far distant, 
but, as I promised my people before I passed the Rhine, I will 
make only such a peace as gives us guarantees and ensures 
rewards to our allies. 

" Soldiers, when all that is necessary to secure the welfare and 
prosperity of our country is accomplished, I \till lead you back 
to France : there you will be the object of my tenderest con- 
cern. My people will see you again with joy, and it will be 
sufficient to say, I was at the battle of Austerlitz, for them to 
reply, ' There is a brave man.' " 

The immediate results of Austerlitz were indeed prodigious. 
Nearly 15,000 were killed or wounded in the army of the allies 
(2,000 were drowned in the ponds), and 20,000 were taken 



484 AUSTERLITZ. 

prisoners, among them eight generals and ten colonels; and 
later reports than reached Napoleon at the time he wrote his 
proclamation make the captured guns mount up to 180, besides 
an immense quantity of provisions and large numbers of baggage 
wagons. The French loss on the contrary was between 7,000 
and 8,000 killed and wounded. 

The day after the battle Napoleon moved his headquarters to 
the Chateau of Austerlitz and gave his great victory its name ; 
but, meantime, vigorous pursuit had been made, and on Decem- 
ber 4th, the Emperors of Austria and Russia, having had a 
decided " falling-out " since their common disaster, Francis of 
Austria sought an interview with Napoleon, and in that inter- 
view the preliminaries of a peace were arranged. The war of 
the first coalition against France had lasted five years. The 
second had lasted two, and this, the third and greatest, had 
lasted but three months, after the most brilliant and amazing 
campaign on the part of Napoleon. No wonder Alexander 
of Russia expressed himself glad to get back to his frontiers 
with even the remnant of an army. The third coalition was at 
an end. 

In three weeks after Austerlitz (December 26th) the treaty 
of peace was signed at Presburg. Austria gave up to France all 
her Italian and Adriatic provinces, including Venice, Friule, Is- 
tria and Dalmatia ; the Tyrol was awarded to Bavaria; and to 
sum up, in short, the losses of the empire, it may be said, that 
one-sixth of her people and almost one-sixth of her income was 
the cost, to Austria, of her third attempt to humble France. As 
a further consequence of Napoleon's victory of Austerlitz, the 
old German Empire fell to pieces, and in its place there rose 
" The Confederation of the Rhine." 



JENA. 



1806. 




HE astounding campaign of Austerlitz served 
only to increase the respect for the military 
prowess of Napoleon and the dread of his 
ambitious designs. All Europe was alive 
with his fame, and England, baffled and 
chagrined by his success, was still determined 
to undermine if she could not overthrow him. 
Soon after Austerlitz, a French army con- 
quered Naples, and Napoleon seated his 
brother Joseph on the throne as king. In 
June, 1806, he made another brother, Louis, King of Holland, 
and then Prussia decided that his aggressions were aimed at her. 
peace and safety, and, all alone apparently, declared war against 
France. It was a foolhardy move. For years Prussia had 
been living on the laurels of Frederick the Great. He had 
placed her at the very head of the military nations of Europe; 
but since his death she had been at a stand-still. Bereft of his 
guiding and vigorous hand, there was no one to keep her in 
pace with the ever-improving systems of surrounding nations. 
France and her generals had been of little account against her 
during the Seven Years' War ; but France under the now great 
Napoleon was very different as a war power. France was now a 
giant, and her armies, leisurely returning from the conquest of 
Austria, were still in strong force in the heart of Germany. 
Prussia could hope for no outside aid. Austria was crushed by 
Austerlitz. Russia was far away across the Vistula, and the 
young tsar was still stunned by the " thunderbolt," with which, 
as Napoleon had promised, he had wound up the war of the 

486 



486 J ENA - 

third coalition. At this very crisis England herself declared 
war against Prussia ; but before her ponderous machinery could 
be set in motion, her hated rival, France, had taken the initiative 
and left her nothing to prey upon in lower Germany, unless she 
felt ready to take it from under the very guns of Napoleon ; 
and, eager as was England to meet the French at sea, where few 
Frenchmen were ever at home, and however eager she might 
be to stir up other nations into battle with Napoleon over the 
trodden fields and highways of Europe, England herself was 
wise, and withheld her soldiers. Thus it resulted that Prussia 
with perhaps 200,000 available men, and a very weak-minded 
and vacillating monarch at the head of them, was daring enough 
to challenge Napoleon to mortal combat. 

The Prussians were brave, and under old Fritz Magnus had 
been indomitable ; but except their brief campaign in 1792, when 
they undertook to interfere in the Republican move of France, 
they had had no field experience with surrounding armies. 
Her officers, however, were inordinately vain of the record won 
by their fathers in the Seven Years' War; were full of conceit 
in their own ability to win as much and more. France, they 
said, could do well enough fighting disunited and unskilled 
Austrians, or the ignorant and clumsy hordes of Russia; but 
let her dare measure swords with Prussia, and — Shades of Grosser 
Fritz! the science and tactics, the drill and discipline of Pots- 
dam would wind up the Napoleonic army in one bagatelle of a 
battle. This was undoubtedly the belief of the younger ele- 
ment of the Prussian army. There were sage old heads who 
thought differently. 

As for Napoleon, he never had a doubt. Prussia's pretext for 
the war was that Napoleon quartered his army in the provinces 
on her borders. Its presence there was a menace, and she de- 
manded that he withdraw it at once behind the Rhine. The tone 
of the demand, whether just or not, roused the ire of the now 
doubly-arrogant emperor. He treated the message with cool in- 
difference, and prepared to pounce on Prussia the instant she de- 
clared war. To his brothers, the kings (of his creation) at Naples 
and Holland, he wrote that they need not be at all uneasy ; he 



PREPARING TO CRUSH RUSSIA. 487 

would finish this war quicker than the last, and put it out of the 
power of Prussia and her allies, should she have any, to stir for 
another ten years. And he meant it. 

Mayence on the Rhine was now, as before the Austerlitz cam- 
paign, his great depot of supplies. He bought vast quantities of 
corn along the fertile valley, and shipped it with a campaign's 
supply of hard bread, up the Mayn to Wiirtzburg, where, in upper 
Franconia, the main body of his army was speedily concentrated. 
The men were still wearing the uniforms of their Austrian war ; 
they were thread-bare, but still soldierly and neat. Napoleon 
half-laughingly told them that he would save the brilliant new 
garb for the fetes and triumphs awaiting them on their return to 
France. The old dress would do to beat Prussia in; but he took 
great care to see that warm and serviceable overcoats were sup- 
plied to the entire army, and that besides the new pair on his 
feet, each man had a new pair of shoes in his knapsack, the extra 
pair being a present from France ; and with it he meant to tramp 
across Prussia to the very frontiers of the tsar. At the same time, 
he bought and sent forward thousands of draft and saddle-horses, 
and by the formation of a new brigade of dragoon-guards and a 
division of infantry recruited along the Rhine, the Sambre and 
the Meuse, increased his grand reserve to over 16,000 men. 

For the war with Prussia the same general organization of the 
grand army was maintained. Six corps d'armee were speedily 
in readiness : Bernadotte, First corps, had 20,000 men ; Davout, 
Third corps, had 27,000; Soult, Fourth corps, had 32,000 ; Lan- 
nes, Fifth corps, had 22,000 ; Ney, Sixth corps, had 20,000, and 
Augereau, Seventh corps, had 17,000. The Second corps, under 
General Marmont, had been sent to Dalmatia, and was not to 
form part of the army of invasion. The cavalry corps was scat- 
tered through Franconia and Hesse-Darmstadt, wherever forage 
was to be had in plenty. Murat was still its commander, and it 
numbered 28,000 mounted men. Including the imperial guard 
and the reserves, Napoleon's total force fell not short of 190,00c 
soldiers of all arms — a splendid, disciplined and thoroughly sea- 
soned army, full of the highest faith and pride in one another and 
in him. 




488 



On the night of September 24th, Napoleon, accompanied by 
the Empress Josephine and that wily old diplomat, Talleyrand, 
started from Paris for the front. His army was concentrating 
close under the Thuringian mountains, facing Saxony. Ney and 
Soult on the right, around Bayreuth ; Davout and Bernadotte in 
the centre, near Bamberg ; Lannes and Augereau on the left, 
near Coburg ; Murat, with the cavalry, marching forward up the 
valley of the Mayn from Wiirtzburg. All were ordered to be at 
their posts between October 3d and 4th. Marshals Kellerman 
and Mortier (the latter commanding the Eighth corps) were as- 
signed important duties on the Rhine. 

With the first week in October the King of Prussia, with his 
queen, his court, his generals and advisers, was at Erfurt, on the 
head waters of the west branch of the Saale, not more than forty- 
five miles on a bee-line from the left of the French position. 
There were two ways of getting into Prussia and down into the 
valley of the Elbe from where Napoleon's army was encamped. 
One was to face to the left, march by the flank along under the 
Thuringian forest-covered range northwestward through Mein- 
ingen to Eisenach, then eastward to Erfurt, Weimar and Leipsic. 
Three easy marches would carry Lannes and Augereau by this 
route to the Prussian headquarters. The other was to burst 
through the rugged passes of the Thuringian hills, and by way 
of Hof, Schleiz and Saalfeld, appear suddenly in the valley of 
the Saale behind Erfurt, thus turning and gaining the rear of 
the Prussian army ; but this last was a most difficult undertaking 
if any effort were made by the Saxons or Prussians to hold these 
narrow and tortuous defiles. Napoleon determined to burst 
through, however, but to make the Prussians believe he was coming 
ilie other ivay. To this end, Lannes was instructed to keep con- 
stantly pushing out parties to his left, as though strengthening 
bridges, mending roads and reconnoitring; and, in sore per- 
plexity and confusion, the king at Erfurt hardly knew what to 
do. He held a council on the 5th of October; sent a final demand 
to Napoleon on the 7th that he should instantly begin his retreat 
to the Rhine, withdraw every Frenchman behind that stream with 
no further delay ; and, if he did not begin by the following morn- 



THE DUKE OF BRUNSWICK COMMANDS THE PRUSSIANS. 489 

ing, October 8th, he was warned to beware of the consequences. 
So far from having the desired effect, this note simply goaded 
Napoleon. General Berthier was with him when it came. " We 
will be punctual to the appointment," said he, " but instead of 
being in France on the 8th, we shall be in Saxony; " and instantly 
dictating one of his most martial and ringing proclamations to the 
army, he gave the orders to advance. He had with him at this 
moment 170,000 men, and if with them he could get between 
the Prussians and Leipsic and Berlin, he would be repeating the 
manoeuvre by which, a year before, he had disarmed Mack at 
Ulm. 

The Prussian army at this moment was in two independent 
bodies. The first, under the Duke of Brunswick, was now facing 
southwest near Erfurt, 90,000 strong, with the advance of the 
Duke of Weimar well to the front in the Thuringian forests, 
watching for the coming of the French. The second army had 
marched into Saxony to virtually demand assistance from its luke- 
warm elector, and now, under the Prince of Hohenlohe, was in 
Franconia, facing southwestward, too, confronting the passes 
already mentioned; and General Tauenzien, falling back from Bay- 
reuth when the French right wing approached that place, did not 
even occupy the passes, but retreated through them and formed as 
an advance-guard in front of the Prince of Hohenlohe at Schleiz. 
This army was perhaps 50,000 strong. Heavy reserves, equi- 
distant from Brunswick and Hohenlohe, made the Prussian field 
forces mount up to about 180,000 soldiers, Saxons included. 

The marshals and generals of the Grand Army of France we 
have already learned something about. Many of them were at 
Marengo, all were at Austerlitz; but these Prussians are strangers. 
To the Duke of Brunswick had been intrusted the chief com- 
mand of the army, a selection greatly deplored by the vigorous 
young element, as the old veteran was in no condition physically 
to take the field. Prince Hohenlohe, on the contrary, was vig- 
orous, energetic, overbearing and impatient — impatient to an ex- 
tent that speedily became insubordination ; and the two wings of 
the army, separated by some thirty miles of ground, but a far 
wider gulf of conflicting interests and authorities, soon lost their 
33 



490 JENA. 

unity, and this was the divided force which the great master of 
the art of war was to find as the sole defence of Prussia. 

On the 8th of October, Murat, leading the light cavalry, dashed 
through the central defile into Thuringia, and, appearing sud- 
denly at Lobenstein, sent out strong detachments right and left 
to seize the openings of the other passes. Tauenzien fell back 
across the Saale, and on the morning of the 9th, the Grand Army 
of France, from three mountain roads, was descending into the 
Saxon valley. Lannes and Augereau, after having for a week 
kept the Prussians in a ferment of excitement by their prepara- 
tions to march northward on Eisenach, had suddenly struck 
camp, disappeared in the opposite direction, and when next seen 
were deploying in front of Prince Hohenlohe over towards Saal- 
feld, where, on the morning of October 10th, a brisk engagement 
took place between Lannes' men and the Prussian advance- 
guard, 9,000 strong, under Prince Louis. This gallant soldier 
made a brave but pitiably unscientific fight of it, and finding the 
day going against him and his two aides-de-camp killed, he him- 
self dashed in among the French hussars and, scorning to accept 
quarter, attacked the officer who summoned him to surrender, 
and drew upon himself the sword-thrust that stretched him, a 
glittering corpse, with his gay uniform and all his decorations, 
among the hostile hoofs of Murat's cavalry. "One of the au- 
thors of the war," said Napoleon, " Prince Louis was one of its 
first victims." With his death the vanguard fled, leaving twenty 
guns, 400 dead and wounded and 1,000 prisoners ; and this was 
the spirited prelude to the great battles of Jena and Auerstadt 
fought four days afterwards. 

Prince Hohenlohe, from the heights further down the Saale, 
looked on the disaster to his advance guard with keen dismay ; 
and the Duke of Brunswick, farther north beyond the plateau 
between Jena and Weimar, listened to the distant rumble of the 
guns with dismal apprehension. 

On the 1 1 th, gathering his men as they emerged from the 
passes, and moving slowly and with great caution, Napoleon 
advanced into the valley of the Saale, intending as soon as all 
was clear to push eastward on Dresden, one hundred miles 



THE PRUSSIAN ARMY IN DIRE PLIGHT. 491 

away. On the evening of the 12th, he and many of the divi- 
sions were in march toward Gera, way across the valley and full 
twenty miles to the east of Jena. 

And now the Prussian army was in dire plight. It was evi- 
dent that Napoleon meant to push on for the great cities of the 
upper Elbe, and seize the crossings of the stream ; then he could 
easily march northward on their capital, Berlin. The king, the 
Duke of Brunswick and all, broke up in confusion at Weimar, 
and the main Prussian army in five divisions began its retreat, 
hoping to reach the important town of Naumburg in time to 
seize the bridges across the Saale, nearly twenty miles northeast 
of Jena. 

But Napoleon had anticipated them. Davout with the Third 
corps, supported by Bernadotte with the First, had already been 
directed thither; had passed to the east of Prince Hohenlohe, 
and the Third corps was in firm possession of Naumburg and 
the bridges at dawn of the 13th. Meantime, Lannes and 
Augereau had been wheeled to the north and closed in on the 
university town of Jena, while Napoleon, believing that now the 
Prussians would endeavor to reach the Saale at that point, 
determined on giving them a beating then and there. 

Ney and Soult were ordered to march at once to join Lannes 
and Augereau, and thus he would have four corps to concentrate 
on the Prussians with Murat to support him, should his theory 
prove correct ; and Davout at Naumburg, and Bernadotte mid- 
way between Jena and Naumburg, could hold the line of the 
Saale below. All troops marching across the valley towards 
Gera were recalled and directed on the spires of the little town 
lying there under the bare brown shoulders of the Thuringian 
foot-hills. 

Jena was then, as now, the seat of a great university. It lay 
on the west bank of the Saale. All to the east across the river 
was flat and open. All to the west was bluff, precipice and 
ravine. Of these heights the most formidable was the Land- 
grafenberg, which commanded the town, and from whose sum- 
mit a rolling plateau, stretching northwestward to Weimar, 
could be seen at every point. The road from Jena to Weimar 



492 J ENA - 

wound its way up a steep ravine west of the town until it 
reached the plateau, and then sped away in a nearly straight 
line for the latter city. Behind this road and facing the south, 
not Jena, Prince Hohenlohe had now drawn up his lines, for he 
expected Lannes and Augereau to come up the west bank after 
their triumph at Saalfeld, and attack him full front on the 
plateau. He had determined to fall back and join the main 
army in its retreat to the Elbe; but believing Napoleon to 
be hastening away eastward towards Leipsic and Dresden, 
and that only two corps were left near Jena, he thought to 
recover his lost laurels and revenge himself for the blow at his 
advance guard. His right, therefore, reached nearly to Weimar, 
where it was supported by the division of General Ruchel, a 
strong command of 17,000 men; while his left, on the heights 
overhanging Jena, was covered by the corps of General Tauen- 
zien. 

Meantime the old Duke of Brunswick, fearful of being caught 
in just such a trap as Napoleon had laid for the Austrian Mack, 
had faced about, and was marching with all speed for Naum- 
burg behind Hohenlohe, leaving the Duke of Weimar with his 
division, then exploring through the Thuringian forest, to get 
out of it as best they could. Ruchel was told to recall him if 
possible, and then rejoin the main body by rapid marches. 
The duke hoped to get down the east bank of the Saale to 
Magdeburg on the Elbe, the strongest fortification of interior 
Prussia. Fancy his dismay on finding his way barred by 
Davout. He learned it only too well on the afternoon of the 
13th, but pushed desperately ahead, bent on fighting his way' 
through on the following day. 

Late on the 13th Napoleon himself arrived in haste at Jena 
and was conducted by Lannes up the slopes of the Landgrafen- 
berg, whence they could study the surroundings. The daring 
skirmishers of the Fifth corps had driven back the outposts of 
Tauenzien, and cleared a space on the crest which they held 
obstinately until reinforced. The emperor from here could see for 
miles in every direction, but the abrupt slopes from the plateau 
clown to the valley of the Ilm to the north shut off the view of 



THE FRENCH ON THE LANDGRAFENBERG 493 

the highway from Weimar to Naumburg, so that the heavv 
columns of the Prussian king, marching eastward, were not visi- 
ble, nor was it possible to estimate the number of men here on 
the plateau in front of him. He was now nearly opposite the 
left flank of Prince Hohenlohe's long line, and believing the 
entire Prussian army to be on the ground or within easy call, 
Napoleon sent orders to Ney and Soult to march all night, if 
need be, but to pass beyond Jena, and work their way up the 
heights below the town, so as to come in on his right and hem 
the foe from the east. The next thing was to get Lannes' corps 
up on the Landgrafenberg. 

Infantrymen such as he had, could climb anything, and early 
in the evening 20,000 linesmen were clambering up the slopes 
and spreading out to the front, crowding back the skirmish lines 
of Tauenzien, and still Hohenlohe cherished the idea that Lan- 
nes and Augereau were coming upon his front with the dawn 
of the 14th, and made no effort to strengthen the division cover- 
ing his left. Thus he lost the commanding height behind Jena, 
for, with the Fifth corps once firmly established there, he had not 
men enough to win it back. Following Lannes' men came 
4,000 of the imperial guard, who bivouacked in a hollow square 
at the summit, and Napoleon's tent was pitched in their midst. 

No sleep for him yet, however. The hardest work of all was 
to come. Lannes' guns must be hauled to the top ; and, rest- 
lessly riding to and fro, the emperor at last came upon a narrow, 
winding mountain-road that would answer the purpose. Sap- 
pers quickly blasted the rocky sides where the path was too 
narrow, and then while Napoleon, holding a torch in his own 
hand, lent his energetic presence to the work, urging and in- 
spiring everywhere, the pioneers toiled at the roadway to make 
it practicable. By ten o'clock, in the beautiful starlit night, 
with twelve horses hitched to each carriage, the gunners began 
the task of dragging their batteries to the summit. By mid- 
night all were parked at the crest, and, calmly satisfied that all 
would be well on the morrow, the emperor had betaken himself 
to his bivouac, and, if one story be credible, before going to sleep, 
was engaged in drawing up a plan of studies to be pursued 



494 J ENA - 

at Madame Campari's female school, in which he felt great in- 
terest. 

Off to the northwest, towards Weimar, the plateau was one 
blaze of Prussian camp-fires, but the summit of the Landgrafenberg 
was comparatively dark, and in the chill night air the men drew 
together and sought such sleep and shelter as they could find. 
With Suchet's division on the right, the guards in the centre, 
and Gazan's division on the left, the emperor meant to assault 
Tauenzien's lines at dawn. Ney and Murat were to follow up 
in his tracks as soon as he had advanced. Soult, marching back ' 
from Gera, was to climb the ravines below Jena and get to the 
Prussian rear, while Augereau, keeping concealed in the " Miihl- 
thal " and other ravines around the Landgrafenberg, was to act 
in vigorous support on his left. 

At four o'clock the emperor was again in saddle. A thick 
fog like that at Austerlitz enveloped the plateau and the valley 
of the Saale to his right. Nevertheless Napoleon had been able 
to see during the night that not only was the whole country 
towards Weimar ablaze with Prussian fires, but that to the 
north the horizon was red and glaring from the same cause. 
This led him to the belief that while a strong force of the king's 
army might have gone towards Naumburg, they had halted for 
the night in the Ilm valley between Auerstadt and the plateau 
back of Jena, and would be reinforcing Prince Hohenlohe first 
thing in the morning. This had led to his sending orders to 
Davout and Bernadotte which had a peculiar bearing on the 
great battle to be fought the same day with Jena. Davout was 
directed to be sure and hold the bridges over the Saale at 
Naumburg, but at the same time, if possible, to fall upon the 
Prussian rear while the emperor was attacking in front on the 
plateau. Bernadotte was directed to assist Davout if near him 
when the order was received, or to throw himself on the Prussian 
flank if he had already taken a strong position at Dornburg, a 
little town nearly midway between Jena and Naumburg. We 
shall see how strangely Bernadotte interpreted this order when 
we come to Auerstadt. 

It was still too dark and foggy to attack, but not for Napoleon 



"VIVE V EMPEREUR." 495; 

to be up and doing. Riding right in among the bivouac fires 
of his men, he gathered the soldiers about him in one great 
concourse, and in his half-playful, confidential way explained to 
them his hopes and plans for the day. He showed them that 
by their energetic movements they had secured a position which 
threatened the Prussians with as complete ruin as befell the 
Austrians last year ; that if they thoroughly beat the Prussians 
it would destroy them : they could not rally, could not reach 
the Elbe, much less the Oder ; that Russia could not then 
assist them, and the whole war would be finished as decisively, 
as suddenly in one battle as was that of the third coalition at 
Austerlitz. " But keep on your guard against their cavalry," 
he said. " They are indeed formidable ; meet them in squares 
and be firm." Glory and rewards were promised the corps 
which should most distinguish themselves, and disgrace should 
await those that failed him. His stirring words were greeted 
with wild shouts of " Vive 1' Empereur," and then ranks were 
formed. Forward was the word, and through the dim, chill 
light of breaking day, the lines swept down upon the Prussian 
host. At the head was Claparede's brigade, that had so distin- 
guished itself on the left at Austerlitz. 

In one long line they stretched across the plateau, but their 
flanks were covered by heavy columns of Lannes' corps, while 
Vedel's brigade marched in support. To their left, with the guns 
well out in front, Gazan's division pushed forward at the same 
time ; Suchet feeling his way towards the hamlet of Closewitz, 
Gazan towards that of Cospoda, which were heavily garrisoned 
by the Prussian corps of Tauenzien. For a few moments it was 
all a blind groping through the fog. Officers well out ahead 
gave their orders in low tones, and, thus guided, the lines swept 
forward down a gentle declivity, then up the opposite rise, and, 
arriving at the crest, came suddenly upon long ranks of soldiery 
looming up through the fog — the Saxon brigade and Zweifel's 
Prussians. " Fire ! " rang the word of command, and in an in- 
stant the plateau of Jena flashed with the lightning of their mus- 
ketry. Claparede's volley echoed the crash, and then with venge- 
ful bayonets his men sprang forward upon the foe. Far to the 



496 J ENA - 

west and north the volleys, the cheers were heard, and Prince 
Hohenlohe, vaulting into saddle over near Weimar, spurred 
madly eastward to see what it meant. The booming of Gazan's 
guns told him a most unwelcome tale before he could traverse 
half the distance ; and when he reached the position of Tauen- 
zien, it was only to find that the villages were gone. Their 
stony walls were no longer points of rest for his left. The 
French had dashed upon them in the resistless force of their 
first charge ; had carried all before them, and Tauenzien's men 
were doubling up on that magnificent brigade of Cerrini, which, 
steadily advancing and firing by battalion, had checked the first 
onset of Suchet's divisions ; but it was broad daylight by this 
time, and the veteran generals and skillful staff-officers of the 
French, schooled in incessant warfare, speedily aligned and 
strengthened their ranks. Once more, in absolutely beautiful 
order, the Fifth corps resumed its advance towards the west, and, 
despite a gallant resistance, a bloody and terrible combat, the 
ground west of the two villages was carried and held. Napo- 
leon had crushed the Prussian left, captured twenty guns, and 
had now room in which to deploy his army. Soult's divisions 
were still in march from Gera ; only St. Hilaire's had arrived, 
but that, followed by Murat with his impatient cavalry, was now 
ordered up from Jena and began to file out upon the plateau. 
Augereau was rapidly climbing the southern slopes to reach the 
left of Lannes. Ney, too eager to wait until he could bring 
forward his entire corps, had pushed ahead with his voltigeurs 
and light troops, and was panting up the ravines below Jena to 
gain the plateau ; and now Napoleon desired to give his men a 
breathing spell of an hour while his rear columns were coming 
on the field. 

Prince Hohenlohe, meantime, had discovered that all his dis- 
positions must be changed, and that he must form a line across 
instead of along the Weimar road. He acted with great spirit 
and promptitude. The bulk of the infantry under General Gra- 
wert was marched towards the east to replace the shattered corps 
of Tauenzien ; the Saxon divisions, the rallied brigade of Cer- 
rini, Boguslawski's Prussians and a powerful array of field-bat- 



NEY'S EAGERNESS FOR THE FRAY. 497 

teries were swung round to the south and eastward so as to form 
his new right; and there, resting on the "Schnecke" as the Ger- 
mans called the undulating slopes near the Weimar road, they 
were ordered to hold that highway to the last extremity. Dy- 
herrn's brigade and Tauenzien's sore-stricken corps were placed 
in reserve. General Holzendorf, with the newly formed left wing, 
was ordered to fall upon the heads of Soult's columns and drive 
them back, down the valley of the Saale. Ruchel, way to the 
rear at Weimar, was urged to come up with his strong corps, 
and then, placing himself at the head of all his cavalry and 
horse-batteries, the gallant prince galloped to the front and cen- 
tre to restore the battle. 

All this, Napoleon, from the height of the Landgrafenberg, 
watched with calm satisfaction. He did not intend to resume 
the battle until Soult, Augereau and Ney were all in position, 
and Murat on the heights with the whole cavalry corps; but 
Ney, as we have said, was too eager to get into the fight, and 
leaving his division commanders to bring up the toiling foot to 
their assigned positions on the plateau, he had galloped forward 
with the Third hussars and the Tenth chasseurs ; his light in- 
fantry battalions had followed him unseen by Napoleon through 
the early fog, and when that cleared away and the whole plateau 
was visible, while the columns of the Sixth corps were crawling 
up to their proper place on the ridges north of the Landgrafen- 
berg, here was the corps commander himself right in the centre ; 
and, in his eagerness for his share in the battle, he had pushed 
squarely in between Lannes and Augereau, and was facing the 
little village of Vierzehn-Heiligen — the very centre of the battle- 
field. He got there, as luck would have it, just at the instant 
that Hohenlohe came thundering up with the light-guns, and, 
knowing nothing of Napoleon's orders to cease firing until the 
general signal should be given from the Landgrafenberg, and be- 
ing accustomed in his impetuous way to fight on sight, he rushed 
his chasseurs at the unlimbering batteries, and in less than a 
minute the French horsemen were tumbling over the gunners 
and drivers ; had captured seven guns and were riding off with 
them, when down came the Prussian cuirassiers to the rescue, 



498 JENA. 

Then Ney had to launch the Third hussars to help the chasseurs, 
and as these two light regiments were by no means strong enough 
to cope with thirty squadrons of mail-clad horsemen, he led his 
infantry forward at the double and opened his volleys on the 
Prussians, forming square to resist their charges and strewing 
the ground with their dead and wounded. 

But all this was contrary to the plans of Napoleon, who was 
astounded to see on his battle checker-board a move he had 
never authorized. In high displeasure he came galloping down 
to the front, bent on breaking the general who had dared disobey 
his orders. It never occurred to him that it could be Ney, who, 
by good rights, should still be plodding up the heights below 
Jena ; but when he reached the front and saw those two squares 
defying the whole force of Hohenlohe's charging cuirassiers, his 
wrath gave way to soldierly admiration ; and when told that it 
was Ney, he could not but laugh with delight ; the whole thing 
was so characteristic of that dare-devil, battle-loving fighter. 

Bertrand came up with two regiments to support Ney, for 
Murat and Augereau were not yet in position. Lannes hastened 
forward with two brigades of his solid infantry, and now the bat- 
tle of Jena was resumed in the centre with ten-fold fury. 

For full an hour, from ten until eleven o'clock, the vortex of 
the fight raged right here around that little hamlet. Ney had 
sprung a hornet's nest and had to bear the brunt of it with his 
little elite brigade and such aid as Lannes could give him. Un- 
hampered for the time on either flank, Hohenlohe was able to 
borrow men from them, and to concentrate all his energies on 
the centre. Thus it happened that the fiercest fighting of that 
bloody day occurred between tjiese hours and about this spot. 
For years afterwards the men who survived in Grawert's Prus- 
sian division and the two brigades of Lannes and Ney were 
looked upon with something like awe by the rest of the armies. 
Ney's infantry were three battalions, one of grenadiers, one of 
voltigeurs, and the 25th light infantry. Lannes' were the 21st 
light, and the ,34th, 64th, 88th, 100th and 103d infantry of the 
line; ("88" seems' to be a fighting number wherever it is met, 
for no regiment in the English army is more famous than its 



TERRIBLE FIGHTING IN THE CENTRE. 499 

88th — the Connaught Rangers, the fighting " Faugh-a-ballaghs,") 
and these French 88th seem to have fought like demons among 
the walls of Vierzehn-Heiligen. On both sides the carnage 
was terrible — never forgotten in either army. Only a few months 
since (the summer of '83) there was published in the Paris Fig- 
aro a letter written in November, 1806, on the banks of the 
Vistula by Colonel Taupin of the 103d describing, to an old 
friend at Lille, the part taken by his regiment in that desperate 
stand up, muzzle-to-muzzle fight. According to Colonel Tau- 
pin, the emperor did not sleep as soundly between midnight and 
four o'clock as Thiers and John S. C. Abbot would have us be- 
lieve, for at two in the morning the colonel says he was called 
upon by Napoleon himself to take some of his men and creep 
forward with him to reconnoitre the plateau, but then, appear- 
ing perfectly satisfied that the Prussians had weakened their left 
to strengthen the right and centre, he had gone back to his tent. 
It is of the fight around the centre, however, that he gives most 
thrilling particulars. The 103d, he says, in charging broke 
through the first line of Prussians, pursued them to the second, 
which stood firm, and then from both flanks and from the front 
a terrible fire mowed down his gallant men. " In less than four 
minutes," he writes, " my regiment had twenty-three officers 
and three hundred and eighty-seven soldiers killed or wounded. 
... In charging I was on horseback in front of the centre of 
the first division of my regiment with General Campana and his 
two aides-de-camp. The captain of the leading grenadier com- 
pany, his first sergeant and two other sergeants were killed; his 
first and second lieutenants were wounded ; fifty-one grenadiers 
were killed or wounded, and not one of us or our horses was struck! 1 
This was indeed remarkable, and the colonel goes on to say, 
with much gravity : " If anybody else had told you this you 
wouldn't have believed it." Taupin's description has certainly 
more warmth of coloring than even the glowing official reports 
of the emotional Frenchmen, but its publication at this late day 
goes to show how the terrible fighting of the centre at Jena has 
never been forgotten. 

Grawert's line rested, in part, on some rather commanding 



500 JENA. 

ground, which Lannes assailed with great fury ; but here, on his 
right, he was exposed to the fierce charges of that fine cavalry 
against which Napoleon had warned them to stand firm, and 
here he was brought to a halt. So superb were the assaults of 
the cuirassiers at this stage of the battle that, though still urg- 
ing Ruchel to hasten to his support, Hohenlohe ventured to 
assert that the French were already defeated ; that all that was 
needed was his presence to convert their wavering halt into 
tumultuous rout. Meantime the furious fire of his batteries was 
concentrated on Ney's position in the hamlet which had burst 
into flames, and thus for a time he held the battle. This might 
be termed its second stage. 

But now came the third. Soult's infantry, by noon, was up the 
heights ; had received with serene coolness the blustering attack 
of Holzendorf's division ; had stood him off while the entire 
corps deployed, and then advanced westward across the plateau, 
slowly, steadily driving the outnumbered Prussians before them. 
At the same time, to the dismay of Prince Hohenlohe, strong 
columns were reported forming line opposite his right near the 
Schnecke, and almost as he began to believe it possible to drive 
Ney out of Vierzehn-Heiligen, the entire plateau to the south 
and west of that unlucky hamlet was covered by the advancing 
line of Augereau — the Seventh corps with its 17,000 was up 
the heights and sweeping down upon his right. Desjardin's 
division released Ney from his danger, and leisurely attacked the 
Saxons on the Schnecke, while Heudelet, forming in charging 
column on the Jena and Weimar road, awaited the signal to 
push ahead. Then Soult's divisions, advancing from Closewitz 
towards the north of the plateau, got in a flank fire with their 
guns on the Prussian centre, and, seeing everything now in readi- 
ness, Napoleon smilingly waved forward the imperial guard, 
struck spurs to his horse and ordered a general advance of the 
whole line. Grawert's division, already nearly exhausted from 
its terrible combat with Lannes, was now the first to go down 
under the resistless impulse of the French attack. The grena- 
diers of Hohenlohe and Hahn were killed almost to a man, 
falling under ball or bayonet. Grawert was severely wounded, 



THE PRUSSIANS DEFEATED AND PANIC-STRICKEN. £01 

for he and his proud Prussians would not run ; but right and 
left all was now panic and dismay. Tauenzien's remnants, Dy- 
herrn's reserves, Cerrini's fine brigade, all were in confusion and 
flight; whole batteries were abandoned; the gunners cut the 
traces, leaped on the horses and scattered for the rear; prisoners 
were swept in by battalions, guns captured by whole batteries, 
standards picked up from the ground. In vain Hohenlohe faced 
the rout and strove to stem the tide with his heavy cavalry, — there 
was no finer in the world — but against their massive chargers 
and solid armor the French light chasseurs and nimble hussars, 
wild with the enthusiasm of victory, dared to charge again and 
again. 

And now Hohenlohe implored Ruchel to come. "Come with 
all speed, but prepared to meet them half-way. Come with in- 
tervals in your line through which the fugitives may rush." 
What a contrast to the confident despatches of an hour ago ! 
and Ruchel was coming — to his death. 

With his fine corps already deployed in battle order as though 
anticipating the need of this bitter moment; with his infantry in 
two long lines, his cavalry massed on their left flank, the fine 
Saxon horse commanded by General Zeschwitz marching on his 
right, he came in steady disciplined order up the gradual slope 
of the plateau. Far over to his left front he could see the fugi- 
tives from Hohenlohe's battered army fleeing for life down into 
the Ilm valley, and way out across the plateau to his right front 
the Saxon division in two great squares slowly retiring down 
the Schnecke before the charging corps of Augereau, but that 
sight was as nothing compared with the spectacle immediately 
before him. The great highway, the broad fields on both sides 
were thronged with panic-stricken soldiers ; all order, discipline, 
duty forgotten, in one great huddling, shouting, struggling, 
desperate mass the once superb parade regiments of Prussia 
came swarming down, and close at their heels the vengeful 
sabres of the French light cavalry were plying their bloody 
work, and the horse-batteries, galloping almost in among them, 
then halting, swinging round their black muzzles in the twink- 
ling of an eye, added horror to their flight by deluging the 
wretched mob with shell and grape-shot. 



502 JENA. 

In vain Ruchel strove to rally their foremost and align them 
with his battalions. It was a torrent no human being could 
control. It swept over his ranks, for Soult with the French 
cavalry swooped upon the Prussian squadrons on his left, then 
outflanked the line with St. Hilaire's cheering infantry. Ruchel's 
left gave way, and striving to rally them, this ardent and vehe- 
ment patriot reeled from his saddle shot through and through, 
and was borne dying from the field. Even had he lived he 
could have availed nothing; for at this instant, as though enraged 
at having been so long held idle spectators of this terrible battle- 
picture, there came thundering down the plateau with tread that 
shook the very earth, the grand reserve of dragoons and cuiras- 
siers, the heavy cavalry of France led on by Murat in person, 
and now Ruchel's corps crumbled up with the rest and swept 
haplessly, hopelessly to the rear, while Zeschwitz with his Saxon 
cavalry bravely sped forward to rescue if possible their comrade 
infantry. Odd as it may seem, the Prussians were in full flight 
all over the plateau. Only the Saxons, whom they affected to 
treat with patronizing courtesy, remained firm in their ranks. 
Calling off some thousands of his " heavies " from the mad pur- 
suit, Murat dashed them at the Saxon squares, and at last, 
mowed down by the guns, charged again and again by the 
massive squadrons, there was nothing left for them but surren- 
der. Forced into the war against their will by the arrogance of 
their boastful neighbors, the Saxons had yet the satisfaction of 
being the last on the field, and after the battle, of being compli- 
mented by Napoleon himself on their courage and discipline. 

And so Jena was won. " Of the 70,000 Prussians who had 
appeared on the field of battle," says M. Thiers, " not a single 
corps remained entire, not one retreated in order. Out of 
100,000 French, composed of the corps of Marshals Soult, Lan- 
nes, Augereau, Ney and Murat, and the guard, not more than 
50,000 had fought, and they had been sufficient to overthrow 
the Prussian army." 

Now while Prussia had hardly 70,000 men "who had fought" 
on the plateau under Hohenlohe that day, and while fully 
50,000 Frenchmen fought, and fought like heroes, it was indeed 



i 








NAPOLEON'S GREAT TRIUMPH. 505 

a victory of infinite glory for Napoleon. Never did Prussian 
officers fight more devotedly, more determinedly ; and never 
was there a battle on European soil in which the proportion of 
officers killed was so great as in the Prussian lines at Jena. It 
seems as though they had sought death rather than acknowl- 
edge defeat, and when, late that afternoon, Prince Hohenlohe 
with a few squadrons rallied some of the survivors twelve miles 
from the field, and well back of Weimar, it was with despair in 
his heart that he saw the utter ruin of the proud army he so 
confidently thought to lead to victory. 

From Jena to Weimar the plateau was black with the dead 
and dying ; 1 2,000 Prussians and Saxons were killed or left 
severely wounded on the field; 200 guns, 15,000 prisoners, had 
fallen into the hands of Napoleon. Jena and Weimar, fired by 
the shells, were in flames ; and the panic-stricken survivors of the 
terrible day were wanderers over the wilds of Thuringia. 

Great as was Napoleon's triumph here, where he was now, as 
was his wont, looking after the care of his wounded before doing 
anything else, news of a still greater and much more astonishing 
victory was in store for him. Even while mourning the loss of 
4,000 of his brave men, killed and wounded, around Jena, and 
lamenting that he had not completed the ruin of the entire 
Prussian army, he was greeted as he rode back by the glad 
tidings that Davout, unaided, had won a victory as complete as 
his own. He had annihilated the army of the king at Auer- 
stadt, twelve miles away. 

It deserves a chapter of its own. 



auerstAdt. 




1806. 

E have seen how Davout and Bernadotte had 
been hurried down the valley of the Saaie to 
cut off the Prussian retreat, and how the 
army of the Duke of Brunswick escorting 
the king and his court had found their pas- 
sage barred at Naumburg. This little city 
lay on the east bank of the Saale some 
twenty miles below Jena, and, while ordered 
to hold it and the bridge, Davout had re- 
ceived his injunctions to cross if possible and attack the enemy's 
rear; for Napoleon supposed that he had the entire army of 
Prussia facing him on the plateau, or that he would have it there 
on the 14th of October. 

On the evening of the 13th the Duke of Brunswick, learning 
that the bridge was held by Davout, had gone into camp with 
his army around the village of Auerstadt, which lay some six 
miles south of west of Naumburg, and about twelve miles due 
north of the plateau between Jena and Weimar. Out to the east 
of Auerstadt was a tract of open country, extending some miles 
on both sides of the road between Naumburg and Weimar. A 
narrow, shallow stream flowing from the north into the Ilm was 
enclosed between two smooth and gradual slopes ; the western, 
up towards the rising ground in front of Auerstadt; the eastern, 
up to the ridge between it and the Saale ; and on this ridge, and 
traversed by the main road, was the hamlet, of Hassenhausen 
mid-way between Naumburg and Auerstadt. East of Hassen- 
hausen the high-road drops down by steep grades and sharp 
curves into the valley of the Saale, and runs along the river 
506 



BRUNSWICK'S GREAT BLUNDER. 507: 

bank until it reaches the bridge. Commanded as it is by the 
steeps, and crowded in this narrow space, it forms an easily 
defensible pass or defile, and was known to the Prussians as the 
" Defile of Kosen." 

Now, knowing Davout to be over in Naumburg, one would 
suppose that the Prussians would not neglect to occupy this de- 
file in force ; but it seems that as soon as the old Duke of Bruns- 
wick found that he could not hope to cross the bridge, he decided 
that he had no use for the defile. Sending cavalry forward to 
reconnoitre, and satisfying himself that nothing but Davout's ve- 
dettes were on the west side of the river, he determined to let 
all his men get what rest they could. They had marched no 
more than fifteen miles, but, so unused were the Prussians to 
marching at that time, that had been enough to fatigue them. 
Then, too, they were hungry, and their commissary wagons had 
gone astray in the confusion. The bulk of the Prussian army 
around Auerstadt went supperless to sleep, and woke in the 
morning hungry and dispirited. Badly led, badly fed, they were 
not feeling particularly warlike when the 14th of October dawned, 
foggy, chill and raw; and, roused from their uneasy slumbers by 
the roar of battle on the distant heights of Jena, they huddled 
around their fires, wondering what their part was to be in the 
drama of the day. 

The call came soon enough. On the evening of the 13th, 
Davout, who never neglected the faintest detail of his duty, had 
ridden to the western bank of the Saale, and there, from some 
captured cavalrymen, learned that the main body of the Prussian 
army was even then at Auerstadt. He felt well assured that he 
would have brisk work with the dawn, and so sent over some 
light infantry to occupy the defile that the Prussians had failed 
to seize — a blunder on the part of the Duke of Brunswick quite 
on a par with Hohenlohe's loss of the Landgrafenberg. At six 
A. m., on the 14th, a despatch reached him from Napoleon dated 
some hours earlier from his bivouac back of Jena. It told him 
that at dawn Napoleon meant to attack the Prussian army, all 
of which the emperor believed then to be on the plateau, and 
directed him to move up to Apotda, a town in rear of the posi- 
34 



508 AUERSTADT. 

tion of Prince Hohenlohe, so as to attack the Prussian left and 
rear while he attacked in front. Then the emperor went on to 
say : " If the Prince of Ponte Corvo (Bernadotte) is with you, 
you may march together ; but the emperor hopes he will be 
already in the place assigned to him at Dornburg." 

Now Bernadotte was "with him;" that is to say, the whole 
First corps was right there near Naumburg with the Third, and 
Davout at once galloped to Bernadotte, showed him the order, 
and urged that together they should cross and with their united 
forces, 46,000 men, assault the Prussians at Auerstadt, and thus, 
at least, prevent their sending aid to the forces in front of Na- 
poleon ; but Bernadotte declined. The truth was, he hated and 
was jealous of Davout ; he would share no glory with him. Da- 
vout urged — even implored him to act with him ; offered him the 
supreme command of the movement; pledged him his best sup- 
port. It was the cause of France, he urged, but Bernadotte would 
have none of it "The emperor hoped he was already at Dorn- 
burg," and so, though ordered to support Davout if with or near 
him, and not at Dornburg, Marshal Bernadotte marched away 
with every man of his strong and valiant corps, and so took 
them out of both Jena and Auerstadt. It is only anticipating a 
little to say that the emperor reprimanded him in a personal let- 
ter written a week after the battle ; accused him of making a 
"false march," and referred to his conduct in terms that would 
have made a sensitive soldier wretched ; but Bernadotte seems 
to have been self-complacent, and the emperor's wrath against 
him vanished with the next campaign. He had left Davout 
alone, with only 26,000 men in the front of 66,000, but had left 
him to win imperishable glory. 

Davout had forty-four guns, three divisions of infantry and 
three regiments of light cavalry. A division of heavy cavalry 
that had been sent to assist the First and Third corps conjointly, 
was marched off by Bernadotte as though his exclusive property. 
But Davout's infantry was superb ; some called it the best in the 
army, for Davout was a disciplinarian, a drill-master, tactician 
and fighter combined. He was an admirable corps commander, 
and now that his orders had come, supported or unsupported, he 



MARSHAL "VORWAERTS" TO THE FRONT. 509 

meant to carry them out. Soon after six o'clock his columns 
were in march across the bridge, and the marshal was ascending 
the defile of Kosen. With him was the Twenty-fifth of the line, 
a strong regiment of Gudin's division, while well out to the 
front were his light cavalry. The divisions of Morand and Fri- 
ant were following in long column of route, but well closed up. 
The fog that obscured objects on the high plateau of Jena 
was still more dense down here in the valley of the Ilm, and, 
spreading out in dispersed order, the horsemen in front eagerly 
felt their way forward, reached the hamlet of Hassenhausen, 
listened a while to the far-off rumble of the guns now beginning 
to boom back of Jena, and then, more cautiously now and ex- 
tending still farther to right and left, they slowly advanced across 
the open slope down into the dense mist of the shallow valley, 
and suddenly encountered a line of shadowy troopers riding up 
stealthily upon them. Neither side could tell what might be 
behind the other. Gruff challenges were interchanged, then out 
leaped pistols and sabres; and Davout, halting on the ridge and 
deploying the Twenty-fifth across the road, was greeted by the 
popping of fire-arms out in the fog-bank to his front. 

It seems that early in the morning the Duke of Brunswick 
had decided to push ahead for the Saale. Davout, he learned, 
had no very strong force, and he might retake the bridge. If 
not, he could go on down the west bank. The roar of Hohen- 
lohe's guns at Jena in nowise deterred him. That was merely 
done, he argued, to cover the retreat. Hohenlohe was probably 
falling back after him. With Schmettau's Prussian division, the 
duke was escorting the king and his court ; behind them at long 
intervals, and in very lax order for disciples of Frederick the 
Great, came the division of Wartensleben, and back of that, also 
in loose order, the division of Orange ; but in front of Schmet- 
tau was a strong brigade of hussars led and handled by a fierce 
old hussar general, a choleric, red-faced, tough-framed, hard- 
swearing, hard-riding, and — 'twas said — hard-drinking trooper 
at whom it is worth our while to take a long look. It is Gen- 
eral Blucher, the same whom those Prussians will be calling 
Marshal Vorwaerts in a few years from now, the same for whose 



510 AUERSTADT. 

coming, or night, Wellington will be praying at Waterloo. It 
is the tough old Prussian's first campaign against the now 
famous Napoleon, and he begins this day to imbibe a hatred for 
him that only death will quench. 

Blucher's hussars had crossed the little stream in the depres- 
sion back of Hassenhausen, and were coming up the misty slope, 
when, as we have seen, they ran slap into the light horse of the 
French. Calling up his squadrons, Blucher made a dash, 
picked up some prisoners and raced the Frenchmen back to the 
ridge, where they were brought up standing by a volley from 
the Twenty-fifth. Davout's guns galloped up and hurled a k\v 
rounds of grape through the now rising mists at Blucher's 
hussars, whereon the latter were thrown into much disorder, 
and their general, shaking his head in perplexity, galloped back 
to tell his royal master, what the roar of the guns and the 
volley of the Twenty-fifth must already have told him, that the 
French were across the Saale in unknown numbers, but with 
all three arms of the service — cavalry, infantry and artillery. 
Then an alarming discovery was made. Blucher's horse- 
battery had not come back with the hussars. It had been 
dashed upon by the Twenty-fifth in the fog and dragged into 
Hassenhausen, and Schmettau's division was ordered forward to 
find it. 

And so the two armies met in the mist. Gudin's division was 
already deployed in, and to the right of Hassenhausen, when 
Schmettau leaped to the front eager to show his king the valor 
and discipline of his men. J 

Just to the north of Hassenhausen was quite a dense wood 
which Gudin had crammed with skirmishers. The village 
itself was occupied by the Eighty-fifth, while the Twelfth, 
Twenty-first and Twenty-fifth were posted along the ridge to 
the (French) right of the wood. The ridge to the left of the 
Eighty-fifth's position was to be occupied by Morand's division 
as soon as he should come up, while Friant, still in the defile, 
was ordered to hasten his march and deploy on reaching the 
heights. 

The fog was just beginning to clear a little as Schmettau's 



■>■.,:'■* 



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A TREMENDOUS STRUGGLE AROUND HASSENHAUSEN. 513 

men began to ascend the slope, and thus the French position 
was reached. The infantry could make no headway against the 
sharp fire from the wood and the village walls ; but old Blucher 
thought he saw a golden opportunity. Gathering 2,500 cavalry, 
he galloped up the slope beyond the French lines, then faced 
southward and came charging down upon their right flank. 
Gudin was ready for him. Quickly the regiments were thrown 
into squares and received the dragoons with bristling and im- 
movable ranks that flashed fire and death into their faces and 
completely broke the squadrons. Again and again Blucher 
sounded the rally and himself led them in to the charge, but 
the squares would not break ; then Davout opened his guns on 
the horsemen. Bliicher's charger was killed under him, and the 
raging old fighter was with difficulty pulled out, mounted on 
the horse of his trumpeter and led away in the general scurry 
to the rear. 

By this time Morand's division was moving forward into 
position, and the head of Friant's column appeared on the scene. 
All Gudin's division therefore was concentrated in and around 
Hassenhausen, in front of which the Prussians were now mass- 
ing; and Friant's men, the same who so superbly held the right 
at Austerlitz, were sent by Davout to hold the right at Auer- 
stadt. On the Prussian side the divisions of Wartensleben and 
Orange were now deploying, but a very slow and clumsy per- 
formance it proved to be, so little had they been accustomed of 
late years to field manoeuvres of any kind. Nevertheless, the 
assault on Hassenhausen now began, and proved to be a tremen- 
dous struggle. Schmettau's officers, at least, led their men for- 
ward with the utmost spirit and vigor, and despite the galling 
fire of Gudin's lines, closed in around this central point, gained 
the western edge of the hamlet, and then there ensued the bloodiest 
conflict of the day in proportion to the numbers engaged. The 
Eighty-fifth had already lost half its men ; the Twelfth on its 
left was desperately defending that flank from the assault of 
Wartensleben's overwhelming numbers, for Morand being not 
yet up in line could not aid them. The village was the key- 
point of the slope, and whichever side should succeed in holding 



514 AUERSTADT. 

it would hold the victory. For an hour, therefore, the walls and 
hedges were the centre of a crowding circle of fierce com- 
batants. Gudin's men were shot down by scores, but, so con- 
tracted was the space in which they fought, the killed and 
wounded were dragged back among the buildings, and new 
men stepped into their places, keeping the circle intact. Two 
divisions on one, the fight raged, the Prussians furiously driv- 
ing in on that indomitable command of Gudin's, as though in- 
spired with the faith that their numbers must prevail ; but the 
ground was absolutely littered with their dead and dying. Gen- 
eral Schmettau at last received a mortal wound and was borne 
to the rear, and then the sight of the recoiling divisions inspired 
the brave old Duke of Brunswick to another and more deter- 
mined effort. The Prussian Grenadier Guard, tall, stalwart, 
highly disciplined soldiers, had now reached the ground. Order- 
ing the way to be cleared in front, and placing himself at their 
head, the duke led this fresh and devoted division to the storm 
of Hassenhausen. Schmettau's shattered battalions strove to 
form on its flank, and Wartensleben's to assist, but Morand's 
men were now pushing up against Wartensleben. Friant was 
getting a cross-fire on the centre division ; the guards marched 
up in stately order. Gudin's men crouched behind the hedges 
or knelt along the skirts of the blazing village, and held their 
fire until the leading ranks were within an hundred yards, and 
then drove a crashing volley into the guardsmen that made them 
reel, though they would not break ; but one bullet tore its fatal 
way through the face of the brave old duke, and, blind and bleed- 
ing, he was carried back to the king he had served so well, a 
dying man. Marshal Mollendorf sprang forward to take his 
commander's place at the head of the guards, and reached the 
circle of fire around Hassenhausen only to be struck down as 
was his gallant chief. The three great leaders of the king's 
main army, Brunswick, Mollendorf and Schmettau, were thus 
disposed of. Blucher was doing what he could with his horse- 
men on the outskirts of the battle, but Hassenhausen was still 
firmly held by the French, and now the King of Prussia him- 
self resolved to lead his troops in battle. His horse was shot, 



BLUCHER'S INEFFECTUAL CHARGES. 515 

but he mounted another and strove to reanimate the men of 
Wartensleben who were falling back before Morand's leading 
brigade. 

Orange's Prussian division came forward now, breathless, ex- 
cited, and while one brigade was sent to the support of Wartens- 
leben, the other breasted the slopes in front of Friant. Davout 
rushed the heroes of Austerlitz out of their cover in the wood, 
and Orange's men were driven back across the stream in sudden 
and demoralized flight, hardly knowing what had struck them. 
Then Davout galloped over to his left, where Morand's whole 
division was now advancing in the face of a perfect storm of 
grape from the Prussian batteries. They halted for nothing, 
however. Davout's hat and a tuft of his streaming hair were car- 
ried away by a shot, but he never seemed to notice it, and now 
the three divisions, or the survivors rather, of Schmettau, War- 
tensleben and Orange, and the stately battalions of the Prussian 
guard, were falling back towards Auerstadt. 

The king had still two divisions of infantry not yet engaged 
and some 10,000 cavalry, but, thanks to the careless order of 
march, the infa.ntry were still far to the rear. The cavalry had 
its chance, however, and old Blucher now formed his great 
division for an overwhelming attack on Morand's nine battalions. 
The ground on that side especially favored cavalry manoeuvres; 
the Prussian horse, at least, were in fine order of drill and disci- 
pline. 

It was now high noon. The quick eyes of Davout and Mo- 
rand had seen the preparations of the Prussian horse, and the 
instant the squadrons began their advance, seven battalions were 
thrown into squares and challenged the Prussians to come on. 
Prince William rode in the first charge — a spirited effort ; but 
with their front ranks kneeling, the second slightly crouching, 
and the rear erect, the squares seemed by their silence to invite 
the horsemen to attack, waited until the daring squadrons were 
almost on them, then square after square vomited its volleys on 
the Prussian horse, and after several vain attempts and severe 
loss in killed and wounded, Blucher called off his men, who rode 
back under showers of grape from the guns. 



516 AUERSTADT. 

The battle had lasted six hours by the time the cavalry gave 
it up. Gudin's division was well-nigh exhausted, but Friant and 
Morand were comparatively fresh and superlatively full of fight. 
It was at this stage that Marshal Kalkreuth moved up from be- 
hind Auerstadt with the two reserve divisions — Arnim's and 
Kiihnheim's of the king's army. Up to this point the Prussians 
were badly beaten, and Davout's men threw themselves upon 
the sward to take breath. The king's generals gathered around 
him in earnest consultation. Old Blucher vehemently urged 
for permission to take the reserve and all the cavalry, and thus 
mass 30,000 fresh men on the wearied troops of Davout, hurl 
him back on the defile and down the banks into the Saale ; but 
there were other counsellors who had had enough of it. " Every 
time we send in a fresh body of troops they bring up another 
division from that defile," was urged. " They are just playing 
with us — eating us up by detail ; already Schmettau's division 
is annihilated ; Wartensleben's crippled ; Orange's broken and 
scattered. Fall back ; wait until to-morrow and we will have all 
Hohenlohe's army and Ruchel's corps here to aid us. Then 
victory is sure." 

And, despite the furious protestations of Blucher, these tem- 
porizing counsels prevailed. The king gave the order for Kalk- 
reuth, with the cavalry and artillery, to stand firm and cover the 
retreat, and the broken and wearied battalions of the morning's 
battle were permitted to fall back. With somethingakin to incre- 
dulity Davout watched this astounding blunder. He had hoped 
for nothing better than to hold his ground until Bernadotte 
should come back, conscience-stricken, and help him ; but now 
with delight he ordered forward his batteries, straightened out 
his lines, and cheer upon cheer went up from the grand Third 
corps as they saw their late antagonists disappearing over the 
western slopes. It was getting on towards half-past three when 
Kalkreuth, who had moved forward to the brook to prevent an 
assault on the retiring divisions, suddenly found his right wing 
subjected to a severe artillery fire from the Sonnenberg, an eleva- 
tion south of Hassenhausen. It was no use trying to advance 
and take the guns. All the king's batteries seemed to be cut up 



DAVQUT WINS A GLORIOUS VICTORY. 517. 

and bent only on getting safely off with the main body; so order- 
ing the cavalry to fall back at the same time, Marshal Kalkreuth, 
slowly and in good order, began "backing" up his slope towards 
the plateau, on which stood Auerstadt. This was more than 
Davout could stand. Striking spurs to his horse he dashed out 
in front, waving his sword and shouting to his lines to follow. 
Tired as they were, the men sprang to the charge, tore down the 
slopes and over the brook, the long lines stretching far out to 
right and left. Kalkreuth's men fired, but fired high, then quick- 
ened their retreat; and soon, they could hardly tell how, the 
enthusiastic soldiers of France were in mad pursuit of the Prus- 
sian army and chasing it through Auerstadt. The Third corps 
had whipped more than twice its weight in foes — all Prussians, 
and Davout had won a glorious victory. 

The losses of the king's forces on the field alone were fright- 
ful. Three great generals, hundreds of officers of lower grades 
were killed. Nine thousand men were left, killed or wounded, 
and 3,000 prisoners and 115 guns fell into the hands of Davout. 
And his own losses had, of course, been very severe. Out of 
his 26,000 he had 7,000 killed and wounded. Morand and 
Gudin were both severely injured. Half the generals of brig- 
ade and the colonels were dead or disabled, and the defence 
of Hassenhausen had been as bloody a fight as the plain of Ma- 
rengo. 

But far greater trials were in store for the King of Prussia. 
Fie had decided to fall back along the Weimar road until he 
should be within supporting distance of Hohenlohe and Ruchel. 
Long before he could get in sight of Weimar, tidings of disaster 
began to reach him. Then, from the by-roads and pathways 
towards the Ilm to his left, there came stragglers drifting north- 
ward across his path ; then whole squads and companies ; then 
the country grew black with fugitives; then staff-officers, seeking 
their monarch, told him that it was useless to flee farther that 
way; Ruchel was dead, Hohenlohe ruined — all was lost. Napo- 
leon and the whole French army were in pursuit. The news 
spread among the marching men and they too began to break, 
and finally, as night closed upon the dismal scene, all order, all 



518 AUERSTADT. 

organization was lost, and the remains of the proud Prussian 
army were a mass of panic-stricken fugitives streaming over the 
barrens of Thuringia. The combined victories of Jena and Auer- 
stadt had utterly ruined the army of the king. 

Incredulous as was Napoleon at first on hearing what Davout 
had accomplished, he speedily recognized the facts, and disbelief 
gave way to the utmost exultation and gratitude. Loading Da- 
vout with honors and compliments, the emperor ordered Berna- 
dotte, whose men had not fired a gun, to push forward with 
Mu rat's cavalry in the most vehement and rapid pursuit. Not a 
chance should be given the Prussians to rally. That pursuit was 
vengeful and effective to the last degree. It broke the remnants 
of the once martial array into mere splinters, and it taught Blii- 
cher a lesson in the art of grinding an enemy to powder that he 
never forgot. He even improved upon it when he chased the 
French to Paris in 1 8 1 5. This "debauched old dragoon," as 
Napoleon called him, soon grew to be the object of the emperor's 
especial aversion. He alone got away from Auerstadt with his 
command in any kind of shape ; and, though captured along the 
Elbe, it was not until he had exhausted all supplies and could 
surrender with honor. Some years later, so hateful had they be- 
come to each other, Napoleon, in signing a treaty of peace with 
Prussia, stipulated that old " Marshal Vorwaerts," as the Rus- 
sians had named him, should be dismissed from the army and 
relegated to private life. But he was resurrected in time for 
Waterloo. 

With her army annihilated, Prussia could now do nothing to 
prevent Napoleon's occupation of her capital. With exaspera- 
ting deliberation the French marched on Berlin. Davout, as 
his reward for Auerstadt, was accorded the proud honor of 
being the first to enter it, while Napoleon tarried a day or 
two at the shrine of Frederick the Great at Potsdam. With 
the humiliations to which he subjected Prussia and the Prus- 
sians we have nothing here to do. They were at his mercy 
now — and have had ample revenge in later years. His next 
move was to cripple Russia while her neighbor was prostrate 
at his feet; and, after being severely handled in the winter 



THE "PEACE OF TILSIT" FOLLOWS FRIEDLAND. 



519 



battles of Eylau and Pultusk, he finally won the great battle 
of Friedland in the following June, and the brilliant pageant 
of the " Peace of Tilsit " followed. He dictated his own 
terms, which would have been impossible but for Jena and 
Auerstadt. 




Rnireutfi ^_ 



FROM MAYENCE TO BERLIN. 

(Jena and Auerstadt and Adjacent Country.) 



WATERLOO. 




1815. ! 

HE winter of 1808 found Napoleon at the very 
zenith of his power and dominion ; but now 
came the downward course of his star of 
destiny. He had again humbled Austria after 
winning the great battle of Wagram, but, 
when he resolved upon the invasion of Russia 
against the advice of all thinking counselors, 
he became a spendthrift of his every resource; 
and the terrible story of the retreat from 
Moscow is the story of his downfall. Europe 
then made common cause against the monarch who persisted 
in his course of providing the thrones of weakened and con- 
quered nations with occupants of his own blood or selection. 
The battles of Liitzen, Bautzen and Dresden followed in 18 13, 
wherein the emperor kept his marvellous supremacy, but was 
greatly crippled by the severity of the fighting. Finally the 
turning-point came. The allies won the battle of Leipsic — "The 
Battle of the Nations," as it was called — late in October, 18 13, 
and in the following spring were received with acclamations in 
Paris; and Napoleon in May, 18 14, became an exile — virtually a 
prisoner — in Elba. 

Ten months thereafter, Europe was thunderstruck by the news 
that Napoleon Buonaparte had escaped, had landed in France, 
and that the army rallied about him as of old, bore him on to 
Paris and reseated him on the throne, from which the Bourbon 
King, Louis XVIII., had fled in terror. 

It so happened that the delegates of the leading states in 
Europe were then in congress at Vienna to devise measures to 
520 



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SIR ARTHUR WELLESLEY, DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 



"THE MAN OF DESTINY" REAPPEARS. 523 

secure peace and public safety throughout the continent, and 
to put an end to the bloody wars that had ravaged it for a 
century ; and here, to their amaze, they were confronted by 
the tidings that the great disturber of the peace of Christendom, 
the Corsican emperor whom they believed crushed and dis- 
armed, was once again at the head of " The Old Guard," and 
that France, whose volatile people but a year agone had declared 
themselves " done with Napoleon," and had greeted the allied 
entry into Paris with cheers, was now with resounding acclama- 
tions welcoming back " The Man of Destiny." 

" To arms ! " was the vote. The cry echoed over Europe, 
and, by May, 500,000 men were marching on the frontiers of 
France. It was resolved to treat with Napoleon no longer. He 
must be annihilated. 

Of all his enemies England was now the most active. Par- 
liament voted not only men and money for her own army and 
navy, but immense sums for the support of other armies on 
the continent. All the leading nations were leagued against 
Napoleon, but England was the treasurer. This time, too, her 
troops were sent across the channel, appeared in force in Bel- 
gium, for the line of the Netherlands was sure to be, as of old, 
the scene of desperate fighting ; and here, south of Brussels, the 
combined forces of England, Hanover, Brunswick and Nassau 
were hurriedly gathered, and Arthur, Duke of Wellington, 
whose brilliant achievements in Spain had filled the British 
nation with high hopes of success, was placed at the head. 

Hastening to join him, and with an army fully as strong, there 
came from Prussia the bitterest foeman the emperor had in 
Europe, " the debauched old dragoon " as he had called him — 
now Field-Marshal Prince Bliicher von Wahlstadt. The fierce 
old " Red Hussar," intemperate, illiterate, ignorant of strategy, 
but making up in fiery zeal and courage for lack of " book- 
soldier" ability, had been so vast an aid to the allies in 18 14, 
so prominent in the campaign, that he was received in England 
with honors equal to those bestowed on the sovereigns of Rus- 
sia, Prussia and Austria. He was loaded with military decora- 
tions, and, absurd as it may seem, the learned University of 



524 WATERLOO. 

Oxford conferred upon him the degree of LL. D. Even 
Blucher had to laugh at so scholastic a farce as that ; but here 
he was again, our dragoon doctor of laws, seventy-three years 
old, but as hard a rider as ever, and fiercely happy to have one 
more chance at throttling the conqueror who had so humbled 
him and his people. 

Wellington and Blucher were in front of Brussels in May, 
but the agreement made was, that no movement should be at- 
tempted across the border into France until the armies of the 
other nations should reach the front. The Prussians speedily 
moved an army of over 100,000 men under Count Kleist von 
Nollendorf to the banks of the Rhine. The Austrians under 
Schwartzenburg were marching into the Black Forest and ap- 
pearing between Basle and Manheim with an army of nearly 
100,000. The Bavarians were to aid them with some 70,000, 
and, largest yet, under Count Barclay de Tolly, a Russian army 
of 167,000 men was already pushing through Germany. 

Now if all these troops were allowed to unite, the combined 
force would be too great for the hurriedly reassembled army of 
Napoleon. All soldiers who had studied his methods felt sure 
that he would resort to his old tactics; that he would attack and 
strive to beat them in detail. No one was more certain of this 
than England's Iron Duke. He felt confident that Napoleon 
would dash upon him and Blucher, and his heart was full of 
anxiety. If Napoleon could win a signal victory over them, 
and march in to Brussels, all Belgium would declare for him, 
and thousands, still holding aloof in France, would flock to his 
standard. He could then turn sharply on Count Kleist and 
Schwartzenburg — no question as to the result of that assault — 
and then be in perfect readiness to crush the army of Russia. 
Then he could dictate a peace — indeed, he would virtually be 
the dictator of Europe. Everything, therefore, depended on the 
first battle. 

Just as Wellington expected, on he came. On the 15th of 
June, with the Grand Army at his back, Napoleon marched to 
Charleroi with 120,000 men and struck the river Sambre forty 
miles south of Brussels, found the English occupying the road 




THE RETURN FROM ELBA. (C Delort.) 



FAILURE OF NAPOLEON'S PLANS. 525 

to the north, pushed them up towards Brussels with his left 
wing, while with the main body he pounced upon old Blucher 
at Ligny on the 16th and drove him back on Wavre, so that 
Wellington's men, who had made a gallant stand against Ney 
at Quatre Bras, were compelled to fall back a few miles farther 
to a position about twelve miles south of Brussels that had pre- 
viously attracted the eye of Wellington ; and thither on the 17th, 
skirmishing all the way, Napoleon followed him. All had not 
prospered with Napoleon up to this point. He had planned to 
throw himself on Blucher with 75,000 men, while Ney, after 
occupying Quatre Bras, five miles to the west, and seizing the 
roads so as to prevent the English from reinforcing Blucher, 
was to come upon the Prussian rear, and, between them, the 
destruction of the army would be complete. But for once Ney 
failed his great leader. Instead of seizing the village of Quatre 
Bras at dawn on the 16th, Ney let the British get there first and 
then "stand him off" all day. Consequently the bloody battle 
of Ligny was not the success Napoleon had hoped for. After 
a very severe combat against superior numbers he had compelled 
old Blucher to retreat in great disorder. Blucher himself was 
crushed to earth by his wounded horse and barely escaped cap- 
ture ; but when the rout finally began there was no Ney in rear 
to capture and disarm the fugitives, and, to Napoleon's chagrin, 
the beaten army got away towards Wavre, which lies some fif- 
teen miles southeast of Brussels, and not more than eight miles 
east of the position to which Wellington withdrew his men on 
the 17th. 

Ligny had cost the French 6,800 killed and wounded — far 
more than the emperor could spare — and the Prussian loss of 
25,000 men killed, wounded and prisoners, and twenty-one guns, 
did not compensate Napoleon for the failure of his plans. The 
best thing he could do was to send a strong force to follow 
Blucher and his demoralized army and prevent their reassem- 
bling in time to aid Wellington. This duty was intrusted to 
Marshal Grouchy with 35,000 men, and so, reduced severely by 
his losses at Ligny and Quatre Bras, and this great detachment 
under Grouchy, the emperor was compelled to confront Welling - 



526 WATERLOO. 

ton, when he well knew that his crown, his whole future and 
that of Europe were the stakes of the battle, and he had only 
70,000 men to fight with. 

But time was everything. To beat Wellington, and to beat 
him instantly, was his only hope. Ill luck had pursued him 
since he crossed the Sambre. He had planned to throw his 
whole army on Bliicher and destroy him on the 16th, then to 
turn his whole force on Wellington and crush him on the 17th. 
He could have done it — easily, for his army was stronger than 
either one of their divided forces, but now on the evening of 
the 17th Bliicher was rallying at Wavre. Wellington was con- 
fronting him across this broad and unfamiliar valley, and he, 
who depended so much on his guns and cavalry, was now dis- 
mally certain that he would not be able to use them on the 
morning of the morrow — it was raining in torrents and the 
ground was a quagmire. 

All this was hard to bear, but Napoleon was hopeful and 
determined. If Grouchy would only hold Bliicher at Wavre, 
even though he could not hope to use his guns and horsemen 
until late in the day, Napoleon believed that he could thrash 
the British before the setting of another sun. Then on to 
Brussels ! 

First let us take a look at the lay of the land, then we can 
better understand the great scene there enacted. It is the same 
country over which Marlborough and Prince Eugene fought and 
marched a century previous. Englishmen knew it well ; French- 
men even better. Hardly an acre of its surface has escaped its 
libation of human blood, for Belgium was the battle-field of 
Europe time and again. Brussels, its beautiful capital, lies in 
the centre of a rolling, well-watered, well-wooded tract. Here, 
there and everywhere are smiling little towns and villages ; 
every stream is dotted with home-like hamlets ; and in the days 
of 18 1 5 many a stately old chateau, many a walled and fortified 
city remained to remind the traveller of the battles and sieges 
of the previous century. 

West of Brussels, not forty miles away, lay Oudenarde; east, 
not twenty-five, the field of Ramilies ; west of south, perhaps 







5?1H • . flippy - 




?Sri] 



THE RETREAT FROM MOSCOW. ( C. Delort) 



A GLANCE AT THE BATTLE-FIELD. 529 

fifty, Valenciennes and Bavay, where Malplaquet was fought. 
The whole region was densely populated, mainly by a thriving 
and industrious class, and, far and near, the gently undulating 
surface was cut up into farms and homesteads, while running in 
every direction, and connecting the large cities, were broad, well- 
kept highways, shaded with poplars on the sides and often paved 
in the middle. 

The main road from Brussels to the cities on the Sambre is 
the one of most interest to us. Quitting the capital at the 
south by the Namur gate, it runs very nearly due south for 
about ten miles, then forks. The east fork leads through 
Genappe to Quatre Bras, where you turn southeastward if going 
to Namur, or keep on due south if bound for Charleroi. The 
west fork strikes off through Nivelles to Mons, Bavay and 
Maubeuge. A broad highway crosses eastward from Nivelles 
to Namur, intersecting the east fork at Quatre Bras and so giving 
the little village its name — Four Arms. Now, after leaving 
Brussels by this first road, the traveller passes for several miles 
through a dense wood, the forest of Soignies, at the southern 
skirt of which there nestles a little Belgian village, Waterloo. 
Passing through this village one follows the highway out upon 
an open plateau and comes upon another hamlet just at the 
great fork of the high-road. It is the hamlet and this is the 
plateau of Mont St. Jean. Follow the east road a few hundred 
yards and you come to the edge of the plateau, running east 
^nd west, and see before you a mile-wide depression or valley 
into which the two roads dip and rise to the opposite crest. 
It looks not unlike the hollow between two long-rolling ocean 
waves. It looks to-day very little as it did in 1815. It had so 
changed with its new growth of trees or its loss of old landmarks 
only a few years after the great campaign of the Netherlands that 
the Duke of Wellington, gazing upon it in disappointment and 
some indignation, exclaimed: "Why, d — n it all! they've spoiled 
my battle-field." For that shallow valley is the field of Napo- 
leon's last battle, and England cum Prussia's greatest victory — 
the far-famed field of Waterloo. 

To see it as it was in 181 5, let us take our stand here at the 
35 



530 WATERLOO. 

very edge of the plateau, facing south, just where the road to 
Charleroi begins its downward dip into the low valley. The 
edge of the plateau is sharply defined like the ridge of the ocean 
wave to which we have compared it ; for, looking back and 
around us, we see that the ground slopes downward to the north 
as well as to the south, so that the ridge at the edge forms, for 
some distance to the right and left, a natural breast-work. Per- 
haps it was this feature that attracted the eye of the Iron Duke, 
for certain it is, that infantry, crouching along the northern face 
of that ridge, will be fully protected from all but a steeply plung- 
ing fire from the south ; and, as for guns and cavalry, the plateau 
of Mont St. Jean presents, in many places, admirable positions 
well up to the front, where cavalry can be formed in readiness 
for attack, or where batteries can be grouped until needed in 
action, and they cannot be seen from across the valley. 

Crossing the Charleroi road at right angles, our ridge runs 
nearly east and west; but about a third of a mile to the east it 
begins to rise into a mound, and about quarter of a mile to the 
west it begins very gently to curve away toward the south and 
make quite a sweep in that direction ; and all along this ridge, 
from the west to the mound to the east, there runs a country 
dirt-road, partly on the crest, partly behind it, and occasionally 
between sloping banks. This cross-road starts out from where 
the ridge intersects the Nivelles highway, off to the south of 
west of our stand-point, and, passing behind the mound to the 
east, strikes off across an open plateau to the northeastward. It 
leads to Wavre by way of the village of Ohain. 

Back of us, and to the right and left, the ridge and the plateau 
are open, with occasional small groves and patches of trees ; 
southward all is smooth, open turf except at three points and on 
the highway. Down the slope, hugging the roadside on the 
west and not more than 200 yards from us, begins a little farm 
enclosure, with rude stone walls and hedges. Its garden is on 
the side nearest us; then come the farm buildings; beyond them 
an orchard. It is the farm of La Haye Sainte. 

Off to our right front, as we gaze across the vale, is a far larger 
farm enclosure, half a mile from the Charleroi highway at its 



HOUGOMONT, LA BELLE ALLIANCE AND ROSSOMME. 531 

nearest point and occupying an irregular square, each of whose 
sides must be at least a quarter of a mile in length. Its northern 
half is taken up by stone buildings in a flattened, hollow square, 
by a prim, old-fashioned Flemish garden, and by a large orchard. 
South of the buildings is quite a thick wood ; east of the wood, 
two open fields, hedged in and forming the southeastern quarter 
of the enclosure. The garden is bounded on the south by a 
brick wall, high and thick ; yet, so thick are the hedge and the 
apple-trees below it, you cannot see it until when within a few 
yards. A fine drive, lined by stately elms, leads northwestward 
into the Nivelles high-road. The buildings consist of a substantial 
dwelling surmounted by a tower, offices, stables, cow-houses, and 
a quaint little chapel surrounding a paved court, in the middle 
of which is a well with a high wooden structure over it — a dove- 
cote, and the dove-cote is full of its cooing, fluttering occupants, 
and the court with poultry. This is the chateau of Hougomont. 

Down to our left, a good three-quarters mile east of La Haye 
Sainte, the smooth slope is cut up by some hedges ; then come 
one or two winding paths and roads leading up to the plateau ; 
then two little hamlets with their farm enclosures : the nearest 
one is Papelotte ; the farthest, La Haye. Be careful not to con- 
found it with La Haye Sainte. These enclosures are well shaded ; 
beyond them, over a mile from the Charleroi road, are more 
farm enclosures and several patches of woods. 

Now directly south of us, almost a mile away and on the 
opposite slope, is another little farm and roadside inn — La Belle 
Alliance, they call it; still farther back beyond it a ridge like 
our own, with a little mite of a village at the top on the high- 
way, and a much larger village, with church and stone walls, 
nearly a mile to the east of that road. The little village is Ros- 
somme; the big one, Planchenoit, and the rising ground about 
them is dignified of late years by the name of the Heights of 
Rossomme. 

Such is the field of Waterloo as we look at it from the Eng- 
lish side; and here, on the damp, rainy, misty morning of June 
1 8th, 1 815, two hostile armies are arrayed to settle the fate of 
Europe. The army drawn up on the plateau of Mont St. Jean 



532 WATERLOO. 

is that of Wellington. The army on the opposite slope, just 
under Rossomme heights, is that of Napoleon. At this moment, 
according to official reports, Wellington has actually in position 
and ready for battle, exclusive of sick, wounded or otherwise 
incapacitated, the following force : infantry, 49,608 ; cavalry, 12,- 
408; artillery, 5,645. Grand total, 67,661 men and 156 guns. 

With this force he has to fight, unaided until Blucher can reach 
him, the following Frenchmen : infantry, 48,950; cavalry, 15,765; 
artillery, 7,232. Grand total, 71,947 men and 246 guns. , 

Napoleon's men are all French, and reliable veterans as a rule. 
Wellington's Hanoverians and Brunswickers are not up to the 
British mark, and the Belgians are shaky ; so that, both in num- 
bers and in "personnel," the emperor has the best of it. But 
Wellington has the advantage in position, and late in the day he, 
as the world knows, was heavily reinforced by Blucher, who 
brought to the field: infantry, 41,283; cavalry, 8,858 ; artillery, 
1,803. Total, 51,944 men and 104 guns. So that, before even- 
ing, Napoleon had had to face and fight 119,000 men and 260 
guns. 

These are the figures given us by Captain Siborne, of the Brit- 
ish army, whose maps, plans, model and history of Waterloo 
were a life-study with him, and who shows no disposition to 
under-rate British numbers and over-rate those of the French. 
Possibly he might have neglected to weed out Napoleon's " inef- 
fectives," and to have been over-careful about those of the allies, 
for other historians give Wellington a fighting force of 75,000; 
but, as we shall presently see, some of these did not fight. Cap- 
tain Siborne may have declined to count them in for that reason. 
As has been said, it rained in torrents all the evening and most 
of the night of the 17th. The morning of the 18th broke, low- 
ering and dismal. The clouds were lifted from the sodden earth, 
but hung threateningly over the field all day long. None the less, 
England and her allies, France and her devoted soldiers sprang 
to arms at early dawn, and, deserting their bivouac fires around 
which the men had grouped through the wet and cheerless night, 
they occupied themselves for hours in cleaning and drying their 
arms and clothing. Outposts and sentinels who, during the night, 



NAPOLEON'S ANXIETY CONCERNING GROUCHY. 533 

had crouched within speaking distance of one another, were 
drawn in ; long skirmish lines, some of infantry, some of troopers, 
appeared in their stead, but not until after nine o'clock did the 
formation of the battle-lines begin. Wellington was in no hurry. 
He would have been glad to wait another day, when Bliicher 
could surely be with him. Knowing him to be badly whipped 
at Ligny and to have fallen back to Wavre in disorder, Welling- 
ton was very anxious; but, on the evening of the 17th, his 
anxiety was much lightened by the reception of Bliicher's reply 
to his appeal for support. It was characteristic of the fierce old 
war-dog : " I shall not come with two corps only, but with my 
whole army ; upon this understanding, however, that should the 
French not attack us on the 18th, we shall attack them on the 
19th." 

Napoleon, on the contrary, was eager to begin. Time was 
everything ; but his guns sank to the hubs in the spongy ground ; 
his chargers floundered up to the hocks in the mud. He had to 
wait a while. Anxiously he scanned the opposite crests, and ever 
and anon swept the eastern horizon with his glass. By this time 
he must have known that Bliicher's retreat had been northward 
towards Wavre, and he was to blame for not having pushed 
Grouchy in his track the night of the 16th instead of waiting 
until late on the morning of the 17th. Bliicher had therefore 
had time to rally and reform. Now could Grouchy with 35,000 
hold him ? If not, would Grouchy have sense enough to get 
between him and Napoleon, and so fall back fighting on his 
chief? If Desaix had lived and were there; if Davout had 
only been in Grouchy's place, or Massena, or the lion-hearted 
Lannes ; or even had Ney been sent — Ney who had blundered 
at Quatre Bras — the emperor would have felt assured; but Grou- 
chy was not one of the old array of fighting marshals, and, in 
his haste or carelessness, Napoleon's orders to Grouchy were not 
all they should have been to cover the case. They were brief 
and explicit, but not entirely practicable : " Pursue the Prussians : 
complete their defeat by attacking as soon as you come up with 
them, and never let them out of your sight." But, according to 
Siborne, Grouchy had but 32,000; Blucher must have had nearly 



534 WATERLOO. 

90,000 around Wavre. It was quite an easy thing to say, attack 
and rout an army three times as big as your own, but, difficult 
to do it. Failing in that, however, it still lay in Grouchy's 
power to keep between Bliicher and Napoleon, and so render it, 
for the time being at least, impossible for him to interfere while 
the French were pounding the English and Hanoverians to pieces 
at Waterloo. 

Grouchy did neither. 

At ten o'clock on this lowering June morning, with a grand 
outburst of martial music, with every military pomp and cere-' 
mony, the army of Napoleon moved forward into position and 
deployed its lines along the slopes to the right and left of La 
Belle Alliance. Wellington's army, in silence that was striking 
in its great contrast, moved into the positions assigned the various 
corps, and then ensued the momentous pause before the 
struggle. 

Standing here at the top of the slope and close to the Char- 
leroi road, let us take a good look at the opposing armies be- 
fore the fight begins. We will want to get away soon enough. 
The first thing that strikes the eye is the double curve of the 
long red lines of the British infantry. To our right they are 
straight for only quarter of a mile, then they curve outwards 
towards the French and extend well down towards Hougo- 
mont. To our left they are nearly straight towards the mound 
back of Papelotte, then they curve backwards towards the 
plateau. Their right is heavily backed up by strong reserves 
on the wooded slopes towards the farms of Merbe Braine. Their 
left is open and " out in the air." Far in front of the right, 
down in the " swale," as our plainsmen would call it, is that 
great enclosure of Hougomont, and though from here we can 
see little of them, it is bristling with British bayonets. The 
garden walls are pierced with loop-holes ; the gates and door- 
ways barricaded. The chateau, the farm buildings, the garden 
and orchard are crammed with the foot guardsmen of England. 
Coldstreams and Scots Fusiliers under Colonel Macdonell in 
the buildings, grenadiers under Lord Saltoun in the orchard, 
and the light infantry of Hanover and Nassau in the wood. 



DISPOSITION OF WELLINGTON'S FORCES. 535 

Far off to our right, beyond Hougomont and across the Nivelles 
road, are a few battalions of red infantry supporting the skir- 
mishers that spread out over the slopes to the south and west. 
These are the light troops of Lord Hill's Second corps, and 
among them are the Welsh Fusiliers, the Twenty-third regi- 
ment of the line, which guards the Nivelles road, while the 
Fourteenth and Fifty-first are farther out to the west, where a 
few squadrons of horse can also be seen. 

Back of Hougomont is posted a strong brigade of foot guards. 
The plateau to the rear being heavily held by what appears to 
be an entire division of infantry, partly English, from their 
scarlet uniforms, partly Hanoverians. They are the three brig- 
ades of Adam and Du Piatt (British) and Halkett (Hanoverian), 
and they number nearly 9,000 men, and are all posted to the 
west of the Nivelles road, where Sir Henry Clinton is charged 
with the command. Between us and the Nivelles road, be- 
ginning over at the right, are the guards of Byng and Maitland 
in the front line, and then in order the brigades of Halkett, 
Kielmansegge and Ompteda. They cover the front between the 
roads, and there are some splendid troops over where the 
Guards and Halkett's men are posted. 

In rear of them, and drawn up in closed columns of squad- 
rons, are brigades of hussars and light dragoons — the English 
light cavalry well forward, the Dutch, Belgians and Brunswickers 
pretty well back. Far off to the right rear is in reserve the in- 
fantry and cavalry of the Brunswick corps. Its gallant chief 
was killed at Quatre Bras, dying as did his gallant predecessor 
at Auerstadt. 

Immediately behind Ompteda's footmen, with their left rest- 
ing upon the Charleroi road, is a cavalry brigade, we need to 
turn about and take a good look at. Drawn up in line are four 
superb regiments, all in glittering helmets — three in scarlet 
coats, one in blue. They are the " Household Heavies " of Lord 
Somerset. The First and Second Life, the Royal Horse Guards 
(blue) and the First (King's Own) Dragoon Guards. These, 
with the threatening batteries, pushed well forward to the 
crest, and the long thin line of skirmishers half way down 



536 WATERLOO. 

the slope from La Haye Sainte to the northern corner of 
Hougomont, are all the troops of the right wing. Now look to 
the left. 

First there is the skirmish line well out to the front and 
extending over to Papelotte, where it is lost in the hedges. 
Then south of the Ohain cross-road is Bylandt's brigade of 
Dutch-Belgians in one long line. Then similarly deployed, but 
behind the road, the long line of Best's Hanoverians, while 
La Haye and Papelotte are held by the troops of the Prince 
of Saxe-Weimar. These are all of Perponcher's division. 

Supporting them, posted with intervals in readiness to spring 
forward and deploy, is a famous British division under a famous 
leader, General Sir Thomas Picton, commander of the " fight- 
ing division " of the Peninsular war. Two of his brigades, 
Kempt's and Pack's, are here close behind us. In Kempt's 
brigade are the Seventy-ninth Highlanders, known the world 
over, the Twenty-eighth of the line, immortalized in later years 
by Elizabeth Thompson's superb painting of the British squares 
at Quatre Bras. In Pack's brigade are two regiments of High- 
landers; the Black Watch (Forty-second) and the Ninety-second, 
and two old and tried line corps, the First Royal Scots and the 
Forty-fourth. This is a division to be proud of. 

To their rear, nearly aligned with the Household cavalry, is 
another famous command: Ponsonby's heavies, the "Union Brig- 
ade" — a regiment each of English, Scotch and Irish heavy dra- 
goons, the Royals, the Scots' Greys, and the Inniskillings. Far 
off to the left are the light cavalry brigades of Vandeleur and 
Vivian, and these, with their batteries, complete the left wing. 

Down in front of us, the little farm of La Haye Sainte is held 
by Major Baring with 400 light infantry; and now, while from 
Rossomme only the very front of the allied lines can be seen, 
Wellington, from his position, has this great advantage — the en- 
t' r ° c 1 on is displayed to view. In point of military 

a 1 liO o n 'nus — far more united and 

serviceabio-hiok.ii^ than that of the allies. It will take but few 
words to describe it. With its batteries in front, in two long 
lines of infantry, D'Erlon's First corps stretches from La Belle 



THE FRENCH ORDER OF BATTLE. 537 

Alliance to a point just south of Papelotte, covered on the east 
by its cavalry; four divisions are in line there, all in sombre 
dress of dark blue. Behind them we see two long lines of glit- 
tering cuirassiers — Milhaud's division. Behind them, still farther 
up the slope, are the light cavalry of the imperial guard, also in 
two long lines : the lancers, in their high, broad-topped Polish 
shakos and gay scarlet tunics ; the chasseurs, in a gorgeous hus- 
sar costume of green and gold. These fellows are the beaux 
and dandies of the French army — trim, jaunty, light riders on 
nimble horses, and their general, Lefebvre Desnouettes, is as 
proud of them as ever was Murat, who is struggling for his own 
crown in Italy. Two hundred yards behind La Belle Alliance 
there is an abrupt rise in the ground to a height a trifle above 
the level of our position here. The road cuts through part of 
it, but rises steeply, ^oo, and on that height, east of the road, 
with their horse-batteries on the flanks, are the cavalry brigades 
of Domont and Subervie. All this is comprised in the right wing 
of the French. 

Resting on the little inn and enclosure of La Belle Alliance, 
and thence sweeping way round in a long curve with its con- 
cavity towards us, is the infantry of the left wing — Reille's Sec- 
ond corps. It is formed in two lines like the right wing, but not 
quite as trimly and compactly, for one of its divisions, Gerard's, 
was badly cut up at Ligny and has been left there. Bachelu's 
division is nearest our front ; Foy's is on its left ; while Prince 
Jerome Bonaparte's, a large one, encircles, you may say, the 
southern front of Hougomont. Stretching across the Nivelles 
road are the fifteen squadrons of the cavalry of the Second corps. 
In rear of the divisions of Foy and Jerome is Kellerman's superb 
corps of heavy dragoons and cuirassiers ; back of them, Guyot's 
heavy division of the imperial guard cavalry, so that the left wing 
is formed precisely like the right. The French order of battle is 
beautifully symmetrical and soldier-like. 

In reserve, massed in columns of battalions along the west 
side of the Charleroi road, is the infantry of the Sixth corps, its 
batteries on its left and on the heights of Rossomme behind 
them. Half on the east, half on the west side of the highway 



538 WATERLOO. 

is the grand reserve of the imperial guard, its batteries on its 
flanks. The guard is drawn up in six lines, four regiments in 
each, and in the absence of Marshal Mortier, left sick at Beau- 
mont, the guard is led by General Drouot ; while two of its di- 
visions, the old guard and the middle guard, are commanded by 
those grand soldiers whom we learned to know at Austerlitz and 
Auerstadt — Generals Friant and Morand. The young guard is 
led by General Duhesme. 

Marshal Ney had only joined Napoleon three days before, and 
he now commands the whole front line — that of the First and 
Second corps. Vandamme's Third corps, Gerard's Fourth corps 
and the Sixth cavalry corps are away with Grouchy, besides 
divisions or brigades of the corps now in line. 

It is impossible to describe the admiration with which old cam- 
paigners along the crest of Mont St. Jean had watched the 
splendid formation of the French line of battle. It is only 
1,400 yards from where we stand, to their centre. All is clear; 
every movement is in full view, and now, as though to add to the 
spirit and brilliancy of the scene, saluted by drooping colors and 
flashing arms, followed by a glittering staff, the emperor canters 
along his lines, going their entire length that all may see and be 
seen by him. Cheer upon cheer rends the air, and in the British 
lines hundreds push forward to catch a glimpse of the never-to- 
be-forgotten sight. It is Napoleon's last review of the grand 
army. Some gunners eagerly ask permission to train their pieces 
and open fire on the imperial group, but it is promptly denied. 
Afterwards, indeed, when a battery commander rides to Lord 
Wellington and says that, though now in the heat of battle, he 
can distinctly recognize the emperor and staff, and asks permis- 
sion to shell the party, the duke sternly replies, " No. It is not 
the business of commanders to be firing on one another." 

Satisfied, apparently, with his survey, Napoleon rides back up 
the slopes, reins in near the guard facing north, gets his glass 
in readiness and looks calmly around. It is a little after eleven 
o'clock. It has cleared somewhat; is now close and murky. 
Instinctively every one feels that now the shock is coming, and, 
sure enough, it comes. All eyes are eager to see the first move 



HOUGOMONT THE FIRST POINT OF ATTACK. 539 

of this great master of the war-game, and it is a true one. It 
is aimed at Hougomont. 

Look ! From the right of Prince Jerome's division a column 
of infantry pushes out towards the wood south of the chateau ; 
a bugle sounds a stirring peal, and instantly the leading com- 
panies spring lightly forward, spreading out in skirmish order. 
Half a dozen little jets of bluish smoke pop from the wood cor- 
ner, and faint sounds as of pistol-shots are reaching our ears 
just as the half-dozen jets are swallowed up in a sudden cloud, 
and the crash of a distant volley is borne on the breeze. These 
excitable Nassauers have opened the ball with a vengeance. 
Four or five black objects, advancing with the skirmish line, 
drop. The others come jauntily ahead, and presently each one 
is crowned with a little puff of smoke of his own. The " tirail- 
leurs " have opened fire. A second line comes dancing out to 
the support of the first ; the popping becomes a rattle. The 
supporting battalions begin crowding out to the front, and in 
columns of companies are pressing towards the wood. 

Suddenly there is a rapid movement of gunners in the light 
battery right out here in front of Kielmansegge's men, and Cap- 
tain Cleve's voice is heard in sharp command. Sponge-staves 
and rammers whirl rapidly in air one instant, the gunners spring 
quickly back ; then, with a thundering roar, the right gun 
belches out a volume of smoke and fire. Something goes 
whirring and smoking across the valley and bursts with a puff 
just over the nearest battalion ; a half-suppressed cheer breaks 
along the ridge, the other guns boom forth in quick succession, 
the batteries of Cooke's division, farther to the right, follow suit, 
and the great battle of Waterloo has begun. 

Now the French guns of the Second corps take up the chorus. 
From La Belle Alliance to the Nivelles road every battery 
bursts into flame, and, as though that were not enough, here 
come Kellerman's horse-batteries down from the second line to 
crowd in on the first. Gentlemen, the emperor means to follow 
his old tactics — a crushing fire of artillery and then an advance. 
The shells are now flying over our heads, tearing up the earth 
along Mont St. Jean. " Lie down," is the stern, quiet order of 



540 WATERLOO. 

the officers, and the footmen hug the ground. The horsemen 
wheel about where exposed, and move farther back ; only the 
gunners are on foot and at work at this moment ; the intervals 
between the reports, that at first could be counted, have now 
become indistinguishable. One vast and continuous peal of 
thunder is booming over the startled valley and stunning the 
ear far back as Brussels. A dense cloud of smoke rises along 
the parallel crests ; but staff officers pressing to the front, see 
what they hate to have to tell — the light troops of Hanover and 
Nassau scurrying back out of the wood of Hougomont followed 
by the fire of the skirmishers of France. It will never do to let 
those fellows have the wood. Lord Wellington himself spurs 
to the front and orders Major Bull with his howitzer battery to 
shell them out, and in a minute the old forest is filled with 
stifling smoke and whirring fragments of iron, while — look 
again — at the same instant a thin red line springs forward from 
the hedge, and Saltoun's guardsmen dash through the open 
fields and drive into the French with a cheer that can be 
heard back here at La Haye Sainte ; British bayonets do their 
work, and back go Jerome's tirailleurs. Jerome and Foy order 
forward their lines to support the attack, and the assault on 
Hougomont becomes a battle in itself. The chateau, the build- 
ings, the entire enclosure are wrapped now in smoke and flame, 
while along the Nivelles road to the west, the batteries and ad- 
vanced troops are hotly engaged. Foy and Jerome are able to 
quickly concentrate such a mass of fire on these daring guards- 
men, that in turn they are forced back, and slowly and dog- 
gedly, and with heavy loss, they retire from tree to tree, and are 
received within the sheltering walls of the garden. Others, 
closely pursued, succeed in getting into the stone court-yard, 
and here begins a most heroic and determined hand-to-hand 
fight that lasts throughout the battle. No matter what may be 
going on elsewhere, Hougomont, from first to last, is the centre 
of a terrific combat, and, from first to last, England holds her 
own. 

Finding that the chateau is obstinately held, and being 
pressed for time, the emperor now sends word to Ney, to pre- 



WHERE IS THAT DIVISION OF PICTON'S? 541 

pare for the grand attack already planned. It is his purpose to 
hurl the whole right wing upon the plateau between La Haye 
Sainte and Papelotte, to drive the Anglo-allied lines back from 
the crest, sweep them round upon the Brussels road, and off to 
the northwest. In this way he will effectually cut it off from 
Bliicher, drive part of it into the forest of Soignies, the rest out 
across the open fields. He has hit on the true move in every 
way ; it is the very thing. The British right is strongly held 
with guards, guns and heavy infantry in advance, another divi- 
sion of foot in support on the plateau. Hougomont, a breaker 
in front ; Sir Henry Clinton and the reserves at Merbe Braine, a 
rock in rear. The right is too strong ; the left is strangely weak. 
Wellington has only two divisions of foot, flanked by two brig- 
ades of light horse, and the " Union Brigade " in rear. Pape- 
lotte in front is nowhere near as strong a point as Hougomont. 
Nassauers are nowhere near as firm as Britons. The chances are 
indeed in Napoleon's favor, and Ney is to lead. Yet there is a 
point to be considered. One of his first questions that memorable 
morning, after surveying the line with his glass, was : " Where 
is that division of Picton's?" Battered as it had been at Quatre 
Bras, it had been too much for his best fighter, Ney, and he did 
well to ask where it was now to be found. Picton is here, just 
where that grand attack will come. 

Now there is a quick movement back of La Belle Alliance. 
Down come those squadrons we saw massed on the little height, 
and away they go off toward the village of Frischermont, beyond 
Papelotte. What does that mean? an entire division follows. 
The emperor's anxious glances towards the eastern horizon have 
at last fallen on some objects that appear to be troops close 
under a patch of woods five miles away. " Ride thither, Do- 
mont, see who they are ; if Grouchy's people, call them in ; if 
Bliicher's, stand them off. Follow and back him up, Subervie." 
Anxious as they all are, there are other things requiring imme- 
diate attention. Soult, after a long inspection through his field- 
glass, pronounces the objects infantry in motion, " probably 
Grouchy." Napoleon hopes so, and turns his attention to Ney's 
grand move. 



542 WATERLOO. 

First, with cracking whips and ringing bugle-calls, ten admi- 
rably handled batteries come trotting forward, and with spirited 
and dashing array move boldly out on the broad valley in front 
of D'Erlon's corps. There is a well-defined ridge midwa)' be- 
tween his lines and ours, and parallel with them, and on that 
ridge, in less than five minutes seventy-four guns have swung 
into battery, and the guns on our left, joining in the grand up- 
roar, have chosen them for their targets, and are hurling shot 
and shell at them as they open fire. Bylandt's long line of in- 
fantry, here in front of the Ohain road, looks anything but 
pleased at that sight, and with grave features General Picton 
watches their evident uneasiness. Then, from the French left, 
comes a beautiful sight. Roussel's entire division of Keller- 
man's cavalry corps marches over, crossing in front of the em- 
peror, and wheels again into line just behind D'Erlon, whose 
four divisions have " ployed " into charging columns and have 
begun their advance. In beautiful order they come forward un- 
til the heads of columns reach that gun-crested ridge, and then 
they halt. Ney sends word to Napoleon that he is ready. 
Soult, just sending off a despatch to Grouchy, looks at his watch 
and notes that it is half-past one. 

The French right has now approached to within 800 yards 
of the plateau. Aides-de-camp come spurring out from the 
emperor. One rides to General Reille, who gallops to his right 
division and gives some order. Others fly out across the valley 
to Ney, who signals to D'Erlon. Instantly the First corps^ 
flashes its arms and colors up in air, and with one simulta-j 
neous impulse the heads of columns advance, pass between the! 
guns, and out to the front. Then "tirailleurs" come springing 
out at the run, a long, lively skirmish-line spreads across their 
front, and in four grand divisions 18,000 French infantry move 
steadily forward to the assault of Mont St. Jean. Once clear of 
the batteries they increase their fronts, and with waving banners 
and nodding plumes, cheering enthusiastically, D'Erlon's corps 
marches up the slope. 

Durutte's division on the east is presently assailed by a sharp 
musketry fire from the hedges of Papelotte and La Haye; 



FLIGHT OF THE DUTCH-BELGIANS. 543 

Donzelot's division nearest the high-road begins to suffer from 
the orchard of La Haye Sainte ; Durutte sends a brigade at 
Papelotte, Donzelot one at La Haye Sainte. The rest of the 
corps comes on unbroken between them, and now, over their 
heads, the French guns open fire, and our crest is ripped and 
ploughed and torn with shot and shell, while the superb disci- 
pline of Picton's men is sorely tested ; for a few minutes the 
British linesmen are compelled to stand and take the brunt of 
that artillery-fire without hitting back. Then comes a blessed 
relief. Bylandt's Dutch-Belgians, as we have seen, had been 
given the post of honor in the front line here to our left. Now 
as the dense masses of D'Erlon come sweeping up the slope, 
and the skirmishers are running back away from them, there 
comes the moment when the brigade must rise and prepare to 
receive the enemy. 

The first thing is to get them to rise. That is effected after 
some vehement language. The next is to get them to receive 
the enemy : that is not effected at all. No sooner do the Dutch- 
Belgians get on their feet and catch sight of D'Erlon's skir- 
mishers preparing to open fire, than with unanimous impulse 
and alacrity they take to their heels, and, despite the jeers and 
curses of Picton's battalions, they go driving to the rear, where 
the cavalry bring them up standing by dint of much hard swear- 
ing and lavish promises to cut them down, and so, cowering 
and worthless, they are huddled there until the battle is over, of 
no further use to anybody. 

I And now brave Picton calls on his men. He has only about 
3,000 to oppose to four times as many, but hold that point of 
the plateau he must, or he will die trying it. Splendidly the 
thin red lines spring forward at his voice, Kempt and Pack 
deploy their battalions well forward on the crest abandoned by 
Bylandt, and now they open a crashing fire upon the advancing 
columns. These are so close that the French guns can no 
longer play on the crest, and as their thunder dies away, the 
ringing cheers of the Frenchmen are heard in their stead, and 
the throbbing roll of their drums. " Forward ! forward ! " 
"Vive l'Empereur! " are the cries as the deep columns steadily 



544 WATERLOO. 

near the crest. They are within an hundred yards, now and 
then " halt " rings out, and the colonels can be heard shouting 
the orders to deploy into line on the leading battalions. Oh, 
glorious opportunity for Picton ! He is with Kempt's brigade 
at the moment. " Fire ! " he shouts, and then as the crashing 
volley answers, and before the smoke has cleared away, his 
voice again rings exultantly along the line, " Charge ! Charge ! 
Hurrah! " and with the half-savage cry of the Highlanders, and 
the deep-throated cheer of the British, Kempt's men dash in 
with the bayonet, Picton with them. 

Accustomed to carry all before them, amazed at this daring 
dash by so small a force, the French advance recoils, falls back 
on the rear regiments; great confusion ensues for a few moments, 
in the midst of which Picton's gallant men with butt and bayo- 
net hammer and prod at all who stand, and soon, strange as it 
may seem, send the heavy column reeling down the slope; and 
just as Picton in soldierly delight is applauding and cheering 
them on, his sword is seen to drop — his hand to seek his tem- 
ple, and before his officers can reach him, the hero of the Penin- 
sula, " Fighting Picton," reels and topples from his saddle, shot 
dead by a musket-ball. Terribly wounded at Quartre Bras two 
days before, he had concealed it that he might take part in the 
greater combat, and Waterloo is the hero's closing battle. 

Even his death, however, cannot break the spirit of that brig- 
ade of Kempt. The Twenty-eighth and Seventy-ninth suffer 
severely, but hold the ground they have won ; but where is 
Pack and his still more distinguished command? Pack's brigade 
has three Scotch regiments — the First " Royal Scots," the Forty- 
second (Black Watch) and Ninety-second Highlanders — and the 
strong Forty-fourth British to complete his line. When Kempt 
charged, Pack had not advanced. There were two heavy col- 
umns advancing upon him, the French divisions of Alix and 
Marcognet, and holding his men in readiness, Pack waited until 
the heads of their columns had burst through the Hanoverian 
battery on the crest, had crossed the road to Wavre, and halted to 
form on the northern edge; then, while they were in the confusion 
caused by the deep cut through which that cross-road here runs, 




p&-*± 



NAPOLEON'S FLIGHT THROUGH THE STREETS OF LIEPSIC, AFTER 
THE BATTLE. (A. Braun.) 



THE EAGLES OF FRANCE ON MONT ST. JEAN. 547 

he gave the. order to fire, and the volleys of Scotland swept 
down hundreds of the men who had fought at Austerlitz, Jena, 
Eylau, Friedland, Wagram and Leipsic, only to meet their 
soldier's death here on the heights of Waterloo. Quickly, Alix 
and Marcognet hurried on their rear regiments, and cheering 
like mad the French divisions swarmed over the crest, over the 
Ohain road, and burst with their deadly volleys full in upon the 
British left, piercing the wing, and gaining firm foothold on the 
plateau. Watching eagerly from the Rossomme heights, Napo- 
leon snapped shut his telescope with an eager light in his eyes. 
The Eagles of France, the glorious tricolor, waved on Mont St. 
Jean. He could see them through the battle-smoke. Now 
hold it ! D'Erlon. Hold it, Ney, and all will be well. That 
magnificent advance is a success then, for on the right Durutte 
has carried Papelotte and La Haye. 

Along the highway Donzelot has enveloped La Haye Sainte, 
and now Roussel's glittering cuirassiers cross the high-road, 
wheel to the north and come at thundering gallop up the slope. 
The batteries at the crest blaze at them with shell and grape as 
they come, but, though many a gap is torn through the charging 
ranks, there is no slacking of their speed. With the long, black, 
horse-hair plumes streaming in the wind, with flashing sabres up- 
lifted they gain the crest just to the west of the high-road, sweep 
through the batteries on the ridge, over it they go, and then, in 
full sight of the red-clad squares, they come suddenly upon that 
low-lying cross-road — "the sunken road of Ohain" it is called 
by Victor Hugo — the half-hidden, unpaved country highway to 
Wavre from the Nivelles road back of Hougomont. It throws 
them into some disorder, but hundreds plunge in, scramble up 
on the other side — hundreds cross with no difficulty whatever — 
but their way is stopped; and just as they are reforming under 
fire on the northern side, there comes a loud tan-ta-ra of cavalry 
trumpets, a thunder of massive hoofs, and with superb burst of 
speed and a thrilling British cheer, the guardsmen, the gallants of 
England, Lord Somerset's magnificent household brigade, charge 
home upon the head of the French division, and the cuirassiers 
are overturned and borne back in the rush. Some gallop down 
36 



548 WATERLOO. 

the slopes toward Bachelu's division ; others, closely pursued by 
the Second Life-Guard, speed away across the highway. Skir- 
mishers and light troops, throwing themselves flat to escape the 
rush, and then rallying among the lines of Donzelot and Alix, 
they turn upon their pursuers. Almost at the same instant that 
the household heavies sweep forward in their first splendid charge, 
the "Union Brigade" of Ponsonby comes tearing to the front, 
heading squarely for the cheering lines of Alix and Marcognet. 
The Scots Greys are on their left, nearest the lines of Pack's 
Highlanders as they ride up at thundering gallop, and as the 
two corps recognize one another, there goes up a glorious cry — 
"Scotland forever!" and the wild skirl of the bag-pipes salutes 
the dashing horsemen. Pack can stand it no longer. " Forward, 
lads. In with them!" and the Highland bayonets leap to the 
front, and now Royals, Inniskillings, Scots and Highlanders — all 
are bursting on the lines of France, and the tricolor and the 
eagles are swept away. "Those terrible gray horses," mutters 
the emperor, as he gazes in disquiet at this new and unlooked- 
for tragedy. In vain the Frenchmen strive to resist the shock. 
Not looking for cavalry attack, there had been no time to form 
squares ; and, despite devoted heroism on part of officers and 
men, the divisions that so proudly won the heights so short 
a while ago are now being driven backward down the slopes. 

Desperate fighting, hand-to-hand combats are seen on every 
side. It is here that Shaw, the giant pugilist and swordsman of 
the Second Life-Guard, after sabring several antagonists to death, 
is shot dead by the bullet of a cavalry carbine. (Fiction has 
stretched him dead way over at Hougomont — killed by a little 
drummer-boy. Fact reserves him to die with his regiment on 
the other side of the field, shot by a full-fledged cuirassier.) 
Sergeant Ewart, of the Scots Greys, captures the prized eagle of 
the French Forty-fifth — " the Invincibles." Captain Clark, of the 
Royals, cuts down the standard-bearer of the 105th and secures 
the Empress Maria Louisa's standard. The Inniskillings, whose 
charge was impeded by infantry forming line, reached the Wavre 
road after the Royals and Greys had crossed it. Furious at 
being left behind, the Paddies could hardly wait to form line be- 



WHERE IS GROUCHY? 549 

fore again rushing to the charge. The lines of the Fifty-fourth 
and Fifty-fifth regiments of France were just in front of them as 
they swept across the road. Somebody in civilian's dress, sitting 
there on horseback, called out, " Now's your time ! " and with a 
savage yell the Irish squadrons whirled in on the foe, and D'Er- 
lon's centre is gone. The somebody in plain clothes turns out 
to be the Duke of Richmond. He has no earthly business there, 
but, being in Brussels, he rides out to the front with all an Eng- 
lishman's love for seeing a square fight ; and, ignoring all possi- 
bility of having his own head knocked off, he is delightedly 
watching the progress of the battle. 

Picton's little division, aided by the prompt and powerful onset, 
has checked D'Erlon's advance and turned the grand assault on 
the British left into a rout. With dismay Napoleon beholds that 
admirable First corps streaming back down the slopes, beaten ; 
and now worse yet, a prisoner, a Prussian hussar, is sent in from 
the distant right by General Domont, who says that Blucher's 
men are swarming in those woods, and Domont confirms it. 
Where then is Grouchy? 

But now comes an unlooked-for chance for revenge. Superb 
fighters as they are, English cavalry leaders often lack common 
sense, and from being too brave personally, the noble Lord Ux- 
bridge comes within an ace of sacrificing the heavy brigades. He 
had given general instructions to the leaders of the light horse, 
Grant, Vivian, Vandeleur and Dornberg, to support and follow up 
the moves of the "heavies," but the light brigades were far to the 
flanks or rear, and when the Household and the Unions made 
their glorious charge, Lord Uxbridge found himself unable to 
resist the longing to lead them, and so placed himself at the head 
of the " Second Life," was presently swallowed up in the battle 
and unable to see what was going on except immediately around 
him. It is all very well for a brigade commander to charge at 
the head of his brigade; but for the chief of cavalry of an entire 
army to unite his fortunes with those of some one command and 
let the rest of the field take care of itself is all wrong. Vivian 
and Vandeleur did hasten to their right when they saw the 
charge of the Spots Greys, and did do some superb charging of 



550 WATERLOO. 

their own ; but too late. The seven regiments of heavies burst 
through everything in front of them, pursued the cuirassiers 
down the slopes, had a mad race to see which should first reach 
the main lines of the French ; the " First Life " tore through 
Bachelu's intervals ; the Second got frightfully tangled up with 
the retreating cuirassiers ; the Royals dashed on and over the 
rallying infantry, and the Greys and Inniskillings, backing one 
another up in any daring or devilment as of old, had rushed in 
among the batteries on the ridge, and, every man for himself, 
were furiously riding to and fro, hacking gunners, stabbing I 
horses, cutting traces, but utterly forgetting their formation. In 
vain, Lord Uxbridge shouted himself hoarse and sounded his 
trumpets in the effort to halt and reform his heavies. He had 
started them on their wild charge ; but nothing could stop them 
short of the very centre of the French. Some of them rode up 
to the muzzles of the guns far to the rear in reserve, and then, 
horses and men utterly blown and exhausted, attempted to ride 
back. The whole field of battle from La Belle Alliance eastward 
was covered with squads and sections or disordered groups of 
English horsemen confusedly intermingled, and now the fresh 
cavalry of the French right and the second lines spur down in 
serried ranks upon them. Lancers, chasseurs, cuirassiers charge 
and hem them in, and before Vivian or Vandeleur can begin to 
reach them the havoc is fearful ; the rash valor of the British 
" heavies " meets with its own retribution. The gallant leader 
of the Union brigade, Sir William Ponsonby, is surrounded and 
thrust to death with lances. His brave namesake, Colonel Fred. 
Ponsonby, charging to the rescue with the Twelfth light dragoons, 
is lanced, sabred and left for dead on the field. Colonel Hay, of 
the Sixteenth light dragoons, is desperately wounded. Colonel 
Hamilton, Scots Greys, is last seen alive riding squarely into the 
French reserves at Rossomme. Colonel Fuller, King's Dragoon 
guards, is killed almost at the emperor's feet, back of La Belle 
Alliance; and the grand charge of Lord Uxbridge and his cavalry 
which began in triumph ends in disaster; but not until the 
French assault on Mont St. Jean is utterly defeated. D'Erlon's 
corps has lost 3,000 men, forty guns and two eagles, the sacred 
emblems of the empire. 



INEFFECTUAL ASSAULTS ON HOUGOMONT. 551 

So ends the second phase of Waterloo. " Hard pounding, 
gentlemen," says the Duke of Wellington to his staff. " Let us 
see who can pound the longest." It is nearly three o'clock and 
nobody's battle yet. Both Napoleon and Wellington are looking 
eagerly eastward now. 

At three o'clock a desperate attempt is made to carry Hougo- 
mont by assault. For five hours that terrible fight has been 
going on within the walls, and still the little brigade of guards- 
men, cruelly thinned by this time, holds its post. Byng man- 
ages to get in some reinforcements, and then from over on the 
open plain, Bachelu's division of the French Second corps attacks 
on the east side, while Jerome Buonaparte encloses the walls on 
south and west; but Bachelu's men have to move out under the 
fire of the guns on the crest. Cleves' and Bull's howitzers and 
light guns deluge them with grape, and no mortal can stand it. 
Bachelu is put to rout, and Napoleon sees the second attack 
frustrated. Then he tries setting fire to the buildings : " all is 
fair in war ; " but though flame and smoke blister the hands and 
faces of the defenders, and add to the terrible thirst and torture 
of the wounded, it is useless ; those guardsmen won't even be 
burned out. 

Four o'clock has come. The British left has stood firm against 
D'Erlon's assault. Hougomont is still blazing defiance. Napoleon 
resolves on trying a massive cavalry attack upon the allied right 
centre. First he orders up all his guns, and for twenty minutes 
the most tremendous cannonade these veterans have ever heard, 
stuns their ears and shakes the very earth. Two hundred and 
fifty guns in the confined fronts, between Hougomont and La 
Haye Sainte, are firing as rapidly as they can be handled. On 
the plateau the English and Germans lie prone upon the ground, 
all except the gunners, who ply their work with tireless energy. 
Then, under cover of this fire, Milhaud's division of cuirassiers, 
and Lefebvre-Desnouette's gallantly attired light horse of the 
guard, move over in front of Reille's corps. In deep charging 
columns they yet cover the open ground from the Charleroi 
road to the farm enclosure, and now with ringing trumpet-call 
they take the trot and sweep steadily up the slopes ; the French 



552 WATERLOO. 

guns cease firing ; the British infantry spring to their feet and 
form squares; the gunners depress their muzzles and redouble 
the rapidity of their fire. The duke himself gallops to the bat- 
teries. "Give them grape until they are right on you, then 
run for the squares," he says, and the guns blaze and bellow 
their answer. Milhaud's advance is glorious. He has reached 
the slope now and quickened the pace to the gallop. The roar 
as of a mighty storm is heard as the earth resounds under the 
blows of forty thousand iron hoofs, and nearer, nearer, they 
come till " Charge ! " is the cry, and " in they burst and on they 
rush," through and over the batteries, into and over that sunken 
road, where many are hurled to earth and crushed and beaten 
to death, and then they sweep down upon the steadfast squares. 
Those kneeling Saxons are solid as Hougomont; the lines of 
bristling steel neither bend nor break ; the volleys flash in the 
very faces of the raging troopers, tumbling them to earth, driv- 
ing them to cover, and then Somerset comes charging with the 
heavies, and Milhaud and Desnouette, discomfited, ride back as 
best they can. " Ney, it must be done ! " is Napoleon's emphatic 
order, and once more the grand cuirassiers form. This time 
Kellerman's whole corps rides out to join. Guyot's heavy divi- 
sion is added. It is all the chivalry of France that sweeps to the 
front. It is tossed with lavish hand upon the guns of the foe. 
Call in every horseman. Pack that ground with cuirassier and 
dragoon. Cover every yard of it with mounted men, then, like 
huge, massive, gigantic phalanx, push them in. It must prevail. 
It must sweep these squares from off the plain. If not — 

This is the emperor's supreme effort — the grand cavalry attack 
of Waterloo ; and this, like its preface, is heralded by a tremen- 
dous cannonade. Well may England tremble, whether she does 
or not, for war has seen nothing like this. In one compact mass, 
that covers the whole field west of the high road, the cavalry of 
France advances to the charge. 

It mounts the slope, it closes in its gaps and rents, it bursts 
into headlong rush as it crowns the height ; it thunders through 
the batteries and over the prostrate wretches in that death-trap 
of a road ; it dashes on those calmly kneeling squares ; it swerves 



BLUCHER APPEARS ON THE FRENCH RIGHT. 555 

before their flashing steel ; it crowds, and bursts, and huddles 
through between their posts, but it never breaks one. Its charge 
is thrown away. The cavalry corps of France is broken up into 
hundreds of squadrons or detachments, drifting back under the 
concentrated fire of the British guns. After half an hour's wild 
riding, charging and shouting on the plateau, they are driven 
back, leaving the linesmen as firm as when they came. 

Six o'clock ; and now, what next ? Look eastward : out 
beyond Papelotte and La Haye ; out beyond Frischermont, and 
what see we there ? Domont's and Subervie's squadrons slowly 
falling back before long lines of dark-clad horsemen. Biilow's 
corps of Prussians is driving in the slender defence of the French 
right. Behind comes line after line, squadron after squadron 
bursting forth from the sheltering woods. Bliicher has come, 
true to his promise ; and Wellington, who an hour ago almost 
despairingly prayed, " Oh, for night or Bliicher," now sees vic- 
tory in his grasp. Ney has made one great assault of skirmish- 
ers ; has forced forward in dispersed order the divisions of Don- 
zelot and Alix upon La Haye Sainte, and at last succeeded in 
wresting it from its little garrison. He has crowned the heights 
and opened a galling fire on the British battalions still in squares, 
that resisted the attacks of the last remnants of the French 
cavalry. All the field west of the high-road is disorder and con- 
fusion, but now the squares wheel forward into line, and, rejoiced 
to once more take the offensive, the British infantry come cheer- 
ing forward, driving at the French "tirailleurs" with the bayonet. 
Mont St. Jean at last is clear of living foes, and Napoleon, at- 
tacked in force on his right by fresh and vigorous enemies, re- 
pulsed everywhere in front, finds that he is reduced to the last 
hope — his grand, his hitherto unconquerable guard. 

Grouchy has failed him, for here is Bliicher with, apparently, 
his whole command. Grouchy, instead of keeping well over to 
his own left, and thus being ever ready to interpose between the 
Prussians and his emperor, has blindly followed on the trail of 
their retreat, has failed to catch them until this very morning, 
and by that time the vehement energy and zeal of raging old 
Marshal " Vorwaerts " have enabled him to rally and restore confi- 



556 WATERLOO. 

dence to his men, to face them westward, to march in three close 
columns through the woods from Wavre towards Waterloo. 
One division is left to delay and play with Grouchy, and so, in- 
stead of being cut off, as Napoleon had ordered and intended, 
the Prussian army itself cuts off. Grouchy is separated from 
Napoleon in this his supreme hour of need. 

At half-past six Lobau's corps, over near Planchenoit, facing 
east, is sternly striving to hold back the overpowering numbers 
of the rapidly arriving Prussians. The relics of the French right 
are faced to the east to fight on the defensive. The Old and 
Middle Guard of the emperor march down from Rossomme to 
the height just back of Belle Alliance, and Napoleon looks upon 
them with eyes that have lost all their light and hope and fire, 
but none of their set purpose. Duhesme, with the Young Guard, 
has gone to Planchenoit to hold it to the last. Here are only 
the veterans ; here are Drouot, Friant and Morand. 

There is one hope left. Worn out with their long day of 
severe and desperate fighting, the British infantry, that have so 
obstinately defied his cuirassiers, are now in no condition to 
withstand his guards. If the guard can gain the plateau they 
must sweep it; and, with that done, he can rally all his guns 
and cavalry, he can still burst through between Wellington and 
Bliicher, and, holding the latter, can drive the former back on 
Brussels, then turn on the Prussian and crush him with the 
dawn. It is a desperate hope, but desperate is his need. 

Things are no less desperate in the English lines. They have 
superbly defended their position through the livelong day, but 
they are fearfully reduced in numbers. The casualties of battle 
have reduced regiments to mere squads. The heavy brigades 
can only muster two squadrons, but they have not lost a gun 
nor an inch of ground on the plateau. Still — can they stand one 
more charge ? 

It is seven o'clock. The sun, that all day long has been ob- 
scured by the dense clouds o'erhead, is sinking low towards the 
murky west and beginning to burst through as though to have 
one last look at the fearful scene before dropping below the 
horizon. Napoleon has sent for Ney ; all the cavalry that can 



THE OLD GUARD TO THE FRONT. 557 

be rallied, all the guns, all the infantry are urged to face once 
more toward that smoke-crowned plateau, and follow and sup- 
port the flower of the army— the Imperial Guard of France. 
Ten of its battalions are to make the assault, two only remain 
with the emperor in reserve. To animate them to hope and one 
grand effort, the emperor sends his aides galloping along the 
dejected lines to shout the glad tidings that Grouchy had ar- 
rived, and now, one charge and all would be well. He lied, and 
knew it, for Grouchy was far away as victory. But once more 
the guns were run to the front, and for the fourth time that day 
of ceaseless thunder, the combined batteries of France stormed 
at the heights of St. Jean, and to the music of their awful salute 
the guard formed its columns of attack. One was to pass up 
parallel with the highway and assault close to the British centre; 
the other, skirting the enclosure of Hougomont, was to storm 
the heights now held by Maitland and the Grenadier Guard. 
Napoleon himself gallops forward to a little eminence north of 
La Belle Alliance; Ney rides at their head ; all is ready; and now 
the last hope of the empire is carried forward on those sacred 
eagles. In proud array, in grim silence, in calm and stately 
movement the devoted battalions march forth to their immortal 
attack. The right column passes close under the knoll on which 
Napoleon has taken his post. All eyes, kindling with devotion, 
are fixed one moment upon him ; with significant gesture he 
points to the fire-flashing crest in front, and a mighty shout of 
Vive Vempereur is the stirring and enthusiastic reply. The 
music of all others that has been dearest to his war-like soul, 
it bursts for the last time upon his ears. He has received the 
last salute of the " Old Guard." 

"Ave Caesar, morituri te salutamus," the gladiators of Rome 
shouted in unison as they gazed from the bloody sands of the 
arena to the purple and pomp of the imperial throne. " Long 
live Napoleon " is the battle-cry of the guards of France as they 
march into their death. 

All the world knows the story. Why tell it here ? Far better 
would it have been for the fame of Buonaparte had he spared 
them this test of heroic devotion, or, having demanded it of 



558 WATERLOO. 

them, had he taken his own place, sword in hand, at their head. 
He simply drove them into their annihilation, and from this dis- 
tant height watched their sublime sacrifice. 

Preceded by throngs of skirmishers and light troops, sup- 
ported on the right by Donzelot and the remains of Alix's divi- 
sion, but unprotected on the left, the two stately columns in the 
great bearskin shakos, their dark blue uniforms faced with red 
and crossed by broad white belts supporting the heavy short 
sword and cartridge box, their legs encased in snugly fitting 
campaign gaiters and breeches, once white, now stained by the 
muddy soil of Belgium, great coats rolled, knapsacks trimly 
packed, canteens and haversacks swinging at their sides, the 
guards had marched forward to their assigned positions. There 
some old soldiers, grimly eying the smoke-wreathed crest, un- 
slung and cast aside knapsacks and overcoats. Then came the 
signal, "Forward." 

Ney and Friant, riding at the head of the right-hand column, 
lower their swords in salute as they pass the emperor. Four 
battalions in mass are with them, their drummers beating the 
"pas de charge" They are the men of the Third regiments of 
grenadiers and chasseurs, old and middle guardsmen serving 
together. The left-hand column of six battalions does not move 
for some few minutes yet. It is to be kept a little in rear of 
Ney so as to form a wedge-like front to the attack. Drouot and 
Morand are its leaders, and the First and Fourth regiments of 
chasseurs and the Fourth grenadiers make it up. The First 
grenadiers are with Napoleon. A great throng of light troops 
spring forward on the left and front. Donzelot's lines charge on 
the right. The shades of evening are just descending, and the 
setting sun that all day long has refused its rays, throws a part- 
ing halo over the arms and banners it had smiled upon at 
Austerlitz ; then it sinks upon them, forever. 

Riding from battery to battery the Iron Duke in person directs 
their fire to be concentrated on the leading column of bearskins — 
that which Ney and Friant are leading; and in one moment, 
solid shot, shell and grape are tearing their way through the 
gteady ranks ; but steady they continue : no halt, no break, no 



FRIANT DIES WITH THE OLD GUARD. 561 

waver ; the stern, set faces of the old guardsmen, peering out 
through the smoke, are fixed on those gallant forms in front, on 
the flashing swords of Ney and Friant. Fearful as is the havoc 
in the ranks, it seems only to add to their fervor and enthusiasm. 
Men who were grimly silent a few moments before, now burst 
into cheers of defiance. Suddenly Ney goes down, but, "bravest 
of the brave," he springs to his feet, leaving his slaughtered 
horse, and facing his men to show himself unhurt, cheers them 
forward, waving his sword, while backing up the slope. Many 
a man faces death with calmness. " Only Ney," said Napoleon, 
"could preserve his perfect coolness with his back to the 
storm," and the storm of grape and canister is now frightful. 
Friant is shot down — Friant who with Davout held the right at 
Austerlitz, and again at Auerstadt — dies with the old guard at 
Waterloo. Michel, colonel of the Third chasseurs, is killed out- 
right. General De Morvan springs forward in his place, and the 
brigade moves on. Captains and lieutenants leap to the front. 
Ney leads on foot. At last, with only one-half their number 
left, the right column reaches the summit, bursts forward 
through the guns, and, to the amaze of the officers, sees nothing 
but low hanging smoke in front. Only for an instant, though. 
A voice is heard that rings through the battle-cloud like a 
trumpet call. "Up, guards, and at them!" and from the trench 
of that fatal Ohain road the grenadiers of England in tall bear- 
skins like their own, in brilliant uniform, spring to their feet with 
four deep ranks, take low, steady aim, then one crashing volley 
bursts from the line, and right there on the crest three hundred 
more of the devoted Imperial Guard are stretched lifeless on the 
sward. Then Maitland's men dash forward with levelled bayo- 
nets, and the guards of France and England grapple on the 
ridge. The fight is short and desperate. The Frenchmen are 
surrounded by vomiting guns and howitzers on both flanks, by 
these vigorous grenadiers in front, by swarms of light troops 
pouring into them their fire, and they simply melt away. In five 
minutes, just before eight o'clock, the first column is a shattered 
and drifting wreck falling slowly back towards Belle Alliance. 
Then comes the second's turn. It has passed Hougomont. It 



5G2 WATERLOO. 

can see nothing, through the dense smoke, of the fate of its 
comrade column. It directs its march upon that point of the 
British-allied line where the outward curve begins that carries 
it nearer the chateau. For a few minutes it escapes the fearful 
storm of grape and canister that has been deluging the first since 
it got within five hundred yards of the crest ; but now all of a 
sudden it is rent and torn in every direction, the shots are 
showered in from every side. Still the column forges ahead, 
shouting its hoarse cry of " Vive V ' empereur." Its head is at 
last at the crest, when here the infantry of Adam's brigade 
changes front forward, and covers its entire left flank. Two light 
batteries limber up, gallop forward, and, halting on Adam's right, 
pour in rapid rounds of grape and canister from the short range 
of fifty paces, tearing the columns to shreds. Other batteries on 
the right front are pushed forward, and drive their hot muzzles 
into the very ranks ; while, swarming upon them, right, left, 
front and everywhere, officers and men confusedly intermingled, 
the English and Hanoverians surround them with pitiless fire. 
The guard recoils, falls back an hundred yards to shake loose 
its tormentors, and strives to deploy to answer that hell of fire ; 
but now the batteries mow it down, and the Fifty-second, 
Seventy-first and Ninety-fifth British swoop down in daring 
charge. What is left of the four leading battalions is brushed 
away across the front towards the high-road, and thence falls 
back utterly scattered and broken towards the mound, where, 
grief-stricken and despairing, Napoleon has witnessed the 
scene. 

Two battalions still remain, alone, defiant, dying out there on 
the smoke-covered slopes. All around them the prostrate 
wrecks of the Imperial Guard ; all beyond, the advancing circle 
of triumphant enemies. Thrilled with admiration at the sight 
of their heroism, an English general shouts, " Brave French- 
men, surrender," and Cambronne, commanding this last rem- 
nant of the dying guard, hisses back the answer that Hugo has 
made immortal; and then the word is given, the death-dealing 
volleys once more ring out their peal, the trumpets of England 
and Hanover sound the advance, and, cheering with mad 



THE FRENCH ARMY CUT TO PIECES. 563 

triumph, the lines of Wellington at last sweep forward down the 
slopes they have so long defended. 

At quarter past eight the French army is in full retreat, and 
Napoleon, after having placed himself in front of his last reserve 
and ordered it to follow him, is torn from his suicidal purpose 
and led from the field by his still devoted staff. It is not quite 
dark, when, just beyond the inn of La Belle Alliance, Welling- 
ton and Blucher meet and exchange brief congratulations. 
The latter, but for whose arrival the British could have held out 
no longer, points to the name of the little hostelrie and jubi- 
lantly suggests it as most appropriate for the battle so gloriously 
won in conjunction; and then dashes forward in that merciless 
and death-dealing pursuit that completes the wreck of Napo- 
leon. Wellington, calmly riding back over the field of his most 
magnificent stand and final triumph, spends the night at the 
little hamlet south of the forest of Soignies, and gives thereby 
the name by which this most decisive battle will ever be known, 
that of Waterloo. 

The world's history can tell of none in which the issues in- 
volved were of greater moment, or the results of which were 
more immediate, more sweeping, more decisive ; but it was won 
at fearful cost. 

England lost in killed, 142 officers and 2,341 men; in 
wounded, 550 officers and 7,327 men; in missing, 14 officers 
and 1,056 men. This includes the losses of the Hanoverians, 
Brunswickers, etc. ; and, added to the 4,000 lost by the Dutch- 
Belgians (mainly under the indefinite head of "missing"), gives 
a total loss in the army of the Duke of Wellington of 14,728. 
Blucher's loss, killed, wounded and missing, was 6,775 j making 
the total loss of the allies, 21,503. 

The loss of the French army has never been accurately com- 
puted. It was almost totally destroyed in the battle and the 
pursuit that followed. All of their artillery, ammunition wagons, 
baggage and supplies fell into the hands of the victors. It is 
safe to say that 30,000 Frenchmen were killed, wounded or 
prisoners, and that only a wreck of the Grand Army got back 
behind the Sambre. As for Napoleon, his last hope was gone. 



564 



WATERLOO. 



July found him a prisoner in British hands ; October a broken 
exile on the lonely rock of St. Helena, a thousand miles from 
shore, and there, after six years of mental suffering and rack- 
ing disease, his proud spirit took its flight, and the most re- 
nowned soldier the world has ever known was lowered to his 
grave. 





BATTLE-FIELD OF WATERLOO, SHOWING THE POSITION OF THE 
CONTENDING FORCES AT 6 P. M., JUNE 18, 1815 




THE ALAMO. 

1836 

BY JAMES H. WILLARD. 

N the noble and romantic history of Texas, no 
portion is more interesting to the reader, than 
that which relates the struggles of the Texans 
to free themselves from the rule of Mexico. 

The Texan revolution had drawn to itself, 
more than the number of men of talent, 
who are usually attracted by the stirring events 
such movements promise. Yet, the cause 
looked almost hopeless as the Texan leaders — 
somewhat torn by dissensions among themselves, were assem- 
bled before San Antonio de Bexar on the evening of December 
4th, 1835. The arrival of a scout bringing information regarding 
the garrison, so changed the current of feeling, that Colonel Ben- 
jamin R. Milam cried aloud " who will go with old Ben Milam 
into San Antonio ? " An enthusiastic organization was effected, 
and an attacking party formed, which, in two divisions made an 
assault upon the town just before daylight on the following 
morning. 

Having forced an entrance into the city, the Texans found 
themselves confronted by breastworks and batteries ; hand to 
hand conflicts ensued, in which the Texans silenced the Mexican 
artillery by their rifle fire. At night they strengthened the po- 
sitions they had won. On the 6th, a brisk fire of small arms 
was kept up from the buildings in which the opposing forces 
had entrenched themselves. On the 7th, the Texans gained 
material advantages, but on that day, Colonel Milam was in- 
stantly killed by a rifle-ball. A row of houses was taken from 
37 (567) 



568 THE ALAMO. 

the Mexicans on the 8th. These were separated by thick 
walls, which the Texans pierced, and so fought their way from 
room to room. That night the Texans dislodged the enemy 
from a strong building known as the " Priest's House," which 
commanded the Plaza. This virtually gave the Texans posses- 
sion of the town, and on the following day General Cos, the 
Mexican commander, agreed to capitulate. 

The articles of capitulation were agreed upon, on the ioth. 
The terms were humane. Officers and men were allowed to re- 
tire with their private property ; all public property to belong 
to the victors. The Mexican sick and wounded were left be- 
hind, and were well cared for. General Cos withdrew from 
San Antonio on the 14th, and Colonel Johnson and a force of 
Texans garrisoned the Alamo. 

March 2d, 1836, witnessed the birth of the new republic. 
Political connection with Mexico was declared forever at an end. 
As General Santa Anna, the Mexican President, was approach- 
ing with a well-appointed army, General Sam Houston was 
chosen to the responsible office of Commander-in-Chief of the 
Texan forces, which had been augmented by energetic organiza- 
tion. Lieutenant-Colonel Travis' with some thirty men, and 
Colonel James Bowie with about the same number, were sent 
by General Houston to San Antonio ; and now another hero, 
David Crockett, with a few companions, joined them in time to 
share their glorious fate in the Alamo. 

Opposite San Antonio, where the river of the same name 
makes the remarkable bend that encloses a portion of the town, 
rises the ancient mission of the Alamo. Here the river is some 
sixty feet in width and for the most part shallow. The country 
around is flat, and ditches on both sides of the river were used 
for the purpose of irrigating the land, and also for defence. 
Two aqueducts, running on either side of the walls, supplied 
the Alamo with water. The walls, though thick, were those of a 
mission, not a fortress. Four pieces of artillery faced the town, 
four to the north. Two were by the side of a church that con- 
tained the magazine and soldiers' quarters ; four defended the 
gate that faced the bridge leading across the river to San An- 




; ^ a 






Si 




THE LETTER OF A HERO. 573 

tonio. A hospital, armory and stables for horses were within 
the walls. Colonel Travis had strengthened his defences when- 
ever possible, but he was inadequately provided with men, 
ammunition and provisions. 

General Santa Anna occupied San Antonio on the afternoon 
of February 23d ; the few Texans who comprised the feeble 
garrison, retiring in good order, across the river to the Alamo. 
The Mexican general then demanded the unqualified surrender 
of the Texan position and its defenders. Travis' reply was un- 
compromising and defiant — a shot from the fort. Then a blood- 
red flag was raised over San Antonio, and the Mexican attack 
began. 

As Santa Anna intended to reduce the Alamo by slow ap- 
proaches, the earlier stages of the bombardment were not severe ; 
but Travis, realizing that his situation bordered on the desperate 
sent an express to Colonel Fannin at Goliad, with a strong ap- 
peal for aid, yet declaring that he would never retreat. This 
letter, which reached Colonel Fannin on the 25th, showed the 
determination of the heroic band to defend the liberties of the 
new republic to the last drop of blood in their veins ; and was 
as follows : 

"Commandency of the Alamo, Bexar, February 24, 1836. 
" Fellow Citizens and Compatriots: I am besieged by a 
thousand or more of the Mexicans under Santa Anna. I have 
sustained a continued bombardment for twenty-four hours, and 
have not lost a man. The enemy have demanded a surrender 
at discretion ; otherwise the garrison is to be put to the sword, 
if the place is taken. I have answered the summons with a 
cannon-shot, and our flag still waves proudly from the walls. 
/ shall never surrender or retreat. Then I call on you in the 
name of liberty, of patriotism, and everything dear to the 
American character, to come to our aid with all despatch. The 
enemy is receiving reinforcements, daily, and will no doubt in- 
crease to three or four thousand in four or five days. Though 
this call many be neglected, I am determined to sustain my- 
self as long as possible, and die like a soldier who never forgets 



572 THE ALAMO. 

what is due to his own honor and that of his country. Victory 
or death ! 

" W. Barret Travis, Lieutenant- Colonel Commanding. 

" P. S. — The Lord is on our side. When the enemy appeared 
in sight, we had not three bushels of corn. We have since 
found in deserted houses, eighty or ninety bushels, and got into 
the walls twenty or thirty head of beeves. T." 

Led by Santa Anna in person, the Mexican forces crossed the 
river on the 25th, meeting with such strong resistance, however, 
that they were unable until night, to erect a battery in front of 
the gate of the Alamo. Under cover of the darkness, and the 
protection afforded by some old houses between the river and 
the fort, the Mexicans succeeded in planting this battery and 
also another, some thousand yards to the southeast. Travis 
sallied out and set fire to a few wooden houses and straw huts 
in the vicinity of the walls, and on the night of the following 
day again succeeded in burning more houses that could have 
afforded protection to the enemy. This day and the one 
following were occupied in skirmishing, with but little effect 
upon either side. On the 28th, Travis strengthened the walls 
of the fort by throwing up dirt on the inside; the Mexicans 
erected another battery and attempted to cut off the water 
supply of the Texans. On the same day, Colonel Fannin set 
out from Goliad to aid the beleaguered garrison, but a succession 
of disasters and lack of provisions prevented more than a slight 
advance. After a council of war had been held, it was decided 
the detatchment should return to Goliad, which was done. 

A reinforcement of thirty-two men under Captain John W. 
Smith, succeeded in reaching the Alamo, on March 1st. This 
brought the effective force of Travis' command to 188 men. 
With a view to husbanding their ammunition, which was run- 
ning low, the Texans seldom replied to the Mexican guns which 
kept up an almost continuous fire, day by day. On the 3d, the 
Mexicans planted another battery, this time within musket-shot 
of the fort. In his sore perplexity, Travis now despatched a 
courier to the president of the convention, bearing a last 



A COUNCIL OF WAR. 575 

appeal, which breathed his lofty determination to maintain the 
position. A sally from the fort, resulting in a skirmish with the 
Mexican outpost, was made at night. 

On the 4th, Santa Anna called a council of war, and the 
assault of the Alamo was decided upon. The fort was to be car- 
ried by storm, as soon as the necessary preparations could be 
made. An army of 4,000 well-equipped troops backed by artillery, 
was to be thrown against Travis' handful jof heroes, hungry and 
worn-out with incessant watching. 

Shortly after midnight, on Sunday, March 6th, the devoted 
band in the old Mission were completely surrounded by their 
foes. The Mexican infantry carried scaling ladders ; cavalry 
was posted to cut them down if they flinched from their task. 
As the circle around the fort rapidly contracted, the Texans 
poured upon the advancing columns a murderous fire from ar- 
tillery and small arms. It was daylight when the first ladders 
were placed against the walls, but the assailants were beaten 
back. The second attempt to reach the top of the walls, was 
also repulsed. On the third attempt, the enemy bore down 
upon the exhausted defenders in such numbers, that repulse was 
impossible. Unable to withstand such overwhelming odds the 
Texans were borne back into the fort, now filled with the 
enemy. 

With clubbed guns, the survivors fought on until nearly the 
whole number were cut down. If the cry for quarter was 
raised, none heeded it. Red as the flag on the church of Bexar, 
ran the waters of the aqueduct around the venerable walls. 
Unequalled heroism saved none. Travis fell near the western 
wall ; Crockett in a corner near the church. The slain lay in 
piles about them. Bowie was butchered and mutilated on his 
sick-bed. Evans was shot while attempting to fire the maga- 
zine, a duty, which by agreement among the defenders, had 
fallen to him as the survivor. 

There had been no surrender ; there had been no retreat. 
One brief hour after the Sabbath sun had touched the grim 
walls flying the flag of the lone-star republic, the sacrifice for 
country was complete. With three times their own number of 



576 



THE ALAMO. 



foemen dead around them, the heroic defenders of the Alamo, 
stiffening as they lay, furnished a spectacle of moral sublimity 
rarely witnessed among men. 

The Mexican victory was complete, and they signalized it by 
stripping the bodies of the Texans, subjecting them to brutal 
mutilations, and then burning them in heaps. The wife of 
Lieutenant Dickinson who fell during the defence, her child, a 
negro-servant of Colonel Travis, and two Mexican women, were 
all that survived the shambles of the Alamo. 




GENERAL SANTA ANNA. 




CHAPULTEPEC. 

1847 

BY JAMES H. WILLARD. 

HE ancient Aztec city of Tenochtitlan, crowned 
a slight elevation in the heart of an irregular 
basin, 7,500 feet above sea level. Upon its 
site — midway between the Pacific Ocean and 
the Gulf of Mexico, and some two hundred 
miles west of Vera Cruz — rises the fair city 
of Mexico. Coyoacan, older than the cap- 
ital itself, and once the seat of Cortez's 
government, nestled near the city. Around, 
are lakes of beauty; tall mountains look down upon the cathe- 
dral, built above the ruins of an Aztec temple. 

Upon this garden spot of the republic, the American army 
was advancing. The fields of Palo Alto and Resaca de la 
Palma had been fought and won. Matamoras had fallen ; the 
capitulation of the city had followed the storming of Monterey ; 
the decisive action at Buena Vista had passed into history. 
■ Then the Americans invested Vera Cruz by land and by sea. 
The Mexicans struck their flag after a terrible bombardment. 
In the words of an eyewitness : " Bombs were flying into Vera 
Cruz like hail. Sulphureous flashes, clouds of smoke and the dull 
booms of heavy guns arose from the walls of the city in return ; 
while ever and anon a red sheet of flame would leap from the 
great brass mortars of the castle, followed by a report which 
fairly made the earth tremble. ... A huge black cloud of 
smoke hung like a pall over the American army, completely 
concealing it from view ; the Mexicans had ceased firing in order 
to prevent our troops from directing their guns by the flashes 

(577) 



578 CHAPULTEPEC. 

from the walls : but, having obtained the exact range before 
dark, the gunners continued their fire, every shell falling directly 
into the city. Suddenly a vivid, lightning like flash would 
gleam for an instant upon the dense cloud of smoke over our 
lines, and then, as the roar of the great mortar was borne to our 
ears, the ponderous shell would be seen to dart upward like a 
meteor, and after describing a semicircle in the air, descend with 
a loud crash upon the housetops, or into the resounding streets. 
Then, after a brief but awful moment of suspense, a lurid 
glare, illuminating for an instant the white domes and grim 
fortresses of Vera Cruz, falling into ruins with the shock, and 
the echoing crash that came to our ears told that a shell had ex- 
ploded, and executed its terrible mission." 

After the fall of the hitherto impregnable defences of Vera 
Cruz, the American army marched along the great national road 
toward the City of Mexico. Entrenched among the rocky defiles 
and precipitous cliffs of the Sierra Madre, General Santa Anna 
contested the advance of the invaders. Cannon roared and 
echoed along the gorges. A murderous storm greeted the 
Americans as they swept over the parapets, leaped among their 
foes, and with the bayonet won the victory of Cerro Gordo. 

Jalapa, La Hoya, Perote aud Puebla fell in quick succession. 
Three large cities, two castles, upward of 700 cannon, immense 
quantities of small arms and ammunition, with 10,000 prisoners 
fell into the hands of the Americans in the space of two 
months. 

Then with consummate science and ability, General Scott led 
his army around Lake Chalco, and fought the battles of Con- 
treras and Churubusco. Then came an armistice, which 
terminated however, on September 6th. Two days later, the 
American guns opened on Molino del Rey. After a severe re- 
sistance, the Mexicans were driven from their stronghold ; the 
citadel of Casa Mata fell to the Americans on the same day. 

The Castle of Chapultepec was now the only obstacle to an 
attack upon the City of Mexico. In his report, General Scott 
described this fortress as " a natural and isolated mound, of 
great elevation, strongly fortified at its base, on its acclivities and 



THE " VENICE OF THE AZTECS." 579 

heights. Besides a numerous garrison, here was the military 
college of the republic, with a large number of sub-lieutenants 
and other students. Those works were within direct gunshot of 
the village of Tacubaya, and, until carried, we could not ap- 
proach the city on the west without making a circuit too wide 
and too hazardous." 

Against a background of shadowy hills, rose the crenelated 
walls of the grim fortress that kept ward over what was once 
the " Venice of the Aztecs." Against its frowning bastions 
the American commander was now to throw his battle-scarred 
veterans ; nothing stood between them and the coveted city — 
picturesque, redolent of its Spanish ancestry, except this last 
link in the chain of obstacles that had hampered their progress 
from the waters of the Gulf to the basin of Mexico. Siege gun 
and mortar hurled an iron storm against the walls, until a pre- 
concerted lull in the firing, gave the signal for the storming 
party to advance. Sweeping the enemy from the woods, 
Pillow's men reached the base of the hill and clambered up 
the ascent. Every Mexican gun that could be brought to bear, 
sent a pitiless hail of grape into their ranks. The sirocco 
breath of the cannon fanned the cheeks of the assailants, as 
they labored over the rocky way. A Pennsylvanian, Cadwalader, 
led the gallant band. Although wounded, Pillow would not 
leave the field, but was carried up the hill to witness the bravery 
of his command. 

■ In the words of the General-in-Chief, " The broken acclivity 
I was still to be ascended, and a strong redoubt midway to be 
carried, before reaching the castle on the heights. The advance 
of our brave officers, though necessarily slow, was unwavering, 
over rocks, chasms, and mines, and under the hottest fire of can- 
non and musketry. The redoubt now yielded to resistless valor, 
and the shouts that followed announced to the castle the fate 
that impended. The enemy were steadily driven from shelter 
to shelter. The retreat allowed not time to fire a single mine 
without the certainty of blowing up friend and foe. Those who 
at a distance attempted to apply matches to the long trains 
were shot down by our men. There was death below as well as 



«*>80 CHAPULTEPEC. 

above ground. At length, the ditch and wall of the main work 
were reached ; the scaling-ladders were brought up and planted 
by the storming parties ; some of the daring spirits first in the 
assault were cast down — killed or wounded ; but a lodgment was 
soon made; streams of heroes followed; all opposition was 
overcome, and several of our regimental colors were flung out 
from the upper walls, amidst long continued shouts and cheers, 
which sent dismay into the capital. No scene could have been 
more animating or glorious." Colonel Ransom met a soldier's 
death in the headlong assault. Major Seymour mounted the 
ladders with the rank and file, gained the parapet, and tore down 
the Mexican colors with his own hands. 

Quitman assaulted the fortress from the opposite side. As the 
September sun first touched citadel and bastion, his cannon 
roared messages of doom to the foe in their emplacements at 
the base and along the acclivity of the death-dealing hill. 
Swift, sure hurt lurked in the deep ditches that gridironed the 
meadow. across which Shields led the heroes of Churubusco, in 
the wild rush that gave them the coveted wall — an outpost of 
death. Here Van O'Linda fell, Baxter received a mortal 
wound, Geary was disabled ; Shields, himself, though severely 
wounded, refused to leave the field. Smith scattered the Mexi- 
can skirmishers with musketry ; Benjamin shelled the sloping 
woods ; Hunt tore the enemy's lines with shrapnel and shell. 
Then the bugles sounded the assault. In an unbroken line, the 
Americans swept up to the outer line of breastworks, under a 
canopy of shot and shell ; in deadly grapple they threw them- 
selves upon the foe. Bayonet crossed sword ; clubbed rifles rose 
and fell ; the bellow of cannon ceased as the indescribable mass 
swayed in the agonies of conflict. Against the desperate valor 
of the Americans, resistance was in vain. Quitman had opened 
another path to Chapultepec itself. A general and ten colonels 
were among the hundred officers captured ; 5 50 of the rank 
and file were made prisoners. Among the spoils were 1,000 
muskets and seven pieces of artillery. 

Gallant Casey led the regulars on this glorious day until se- 
verely wounded ; then Paul, at their head, won deathless renown. 



THE MEXICAN STItfcXfTH. 581 

Miller led the volunteers after the fall of the lamented Twiggs. 
The bravery of the regulars was emulated by the volunteers. 
Those whose consign lay on the south side of the stubbornly 
defended hill, fought their way past every obstacle to Pillow's 
regulars, and with colors mingled, struggled up the death-strewn 
gullies, side by side. General Pillow, in speaking of the brilliant 
operations around Chapultepec, said : " That the enemy was in 
large force, I know, certainly, from personal observation. I 
know it also from the fact that there were killed and taken pris- 
oners, one major-general, and six brigadiers. As there were six 
brigadier-generals, there could not have been less than six brig- 
ades. 1,000 men to each brigade, (which is a low estimate, for 
we had previously taken so many general officers prisoners, that 
the commands of others must have been considerably increased,) 
would make 6,000 troops. But independent of these evidences 
of the enemy's strength, I have General Bravo's own account 
of the strength of his command, given me only a few minutes 
after he was taken prisoner. He communicated to me, through 
Passed Midshipman Rogers, that there were upward of 6,000 
in the works and surrounding grounds. The killed, wounded, 
and prisoners, agreeably to the best estimate I can form, were 
about 1,800, and immense numbers of the enemy were seen to 
escape over the wall on the north and west sides of Chapul- 
tepec." 

The storming of Chapultepec opened a direct road to the City 
of Mexico. Worth pounded the San Cosme gate and found 
himself in the city; Quitman forced an entrance by the Belen 
gate, after an advance and assault, comparable to Napoleon's 
passage of the Lodi. Terrific fighting ensued, until General 
Santa Anna and his army abandoned the city. Childs, left be- 
hind in Puebla, was besieged for forty days, but offered such 
heroic resistance that the siege was raised. Lane fought and 
won the battle of Huamantla — where the dashing Captain 
Walker fell, then marched to the relief of Childs, winning the 
battle of Atlixco on the way. Then came the capture of Guay- 
mas, and fierce combats with guerillas who infested every plain 
and thicket ; then, La Paz, San Jose and the remaining opera- 



582 



CHAPULTEPEC. 



tions in California and New Mexico. The " Treaty of peace, 
friendship, limits and settlement between the United States of 
America, and the Mexican Republic," was concluded at Guada- 
loupe Hidalgo, February 2d, 1848. 

Seldom is the historian called upon to record such valor as the 
American troops illustrated, from the opening of the campaign 
on the Rio Grande to their occupation of the capital of Mexico, 
and during the subsequent sanguinary engagements that pre- 
ceded the treaty of peace. 




CASTLE) OF CHAPULTEPEC. 



BALACLAVA. 




1854. 

ERE this a series of sketches of only the most 
important battles in the world's history, the 
stirring engagements of the 25th of October, 
1854, would have no place in its pages ; but, 
in the annals of modern history, no military 
exploit has ever received such wide attention 
or excited so much interest, enthusiasm and 
remark, as "the Charge of the Light Brigade." 
Wherever the English language is spoken, 
and the sun, we know, never sets on England's possessions, the 
famous lines of her poet laureate are "familiar as household 
words;" and not to English-speaking people alone is the story 
well known. Russia, France and Turkey looked on in amaze 
that day, and, as the tidings of the thrilling battle were flashed 
around the globe, very truly was it said that " all the world 
wondered." 

No one event in soldierly history contains more lessons than 
the combat on the "plains of Balaclava" during the Crimean war. 
Lessons of absurd incapacity of bureau officials at the seat of 
government; of sodden stupidity of Muscovite generals on one 
side, and hot-headed and deplorable rashness on the other; of 
superb and heroic daring on the part of Britain's horsemen, and 
of absolute inertia on part of their foes. The story has been 
told by thousands of pens and by tens of thousands of tongues, 
yet it can never grow old while our hearts warm at tales of 
bravery and battle. 

But, in speaking of Balaclava, people seem to think only of 
the charge of the Light Brigade, forgetting or ignoring a charge 

585 



,586 BALACLAVA. 

made earlier in the day that was as superb and successful as the 
other was superb and disastrous. It is the purpose of this chap- 
ter to tell of both, and to set before our readers the story of the 
whole day's adventures. 

In her quarrel with Turkey, the great Russian empire had 
made alarming demonstrations towards the Bosphorus, the out- 
let of the Black Sea. If Russia could but once gain possession 
of Constantinople and the command of the Bosphorus and the 
Dardanelles, her empire, as was said by the great Napoleon, 
would indeed be "the empire of the world." The Black Sea, 
with its fine harbors, ship-yards and roadsteads, would become the 
secure rendezvous of her fleets, and issuing from the narrow 
straits to the south, she could sweep the inland ocean of the 
Mediterranean or fall back under her guns, as her enemies proved 
too small or great. The "eastern question" is too complex for 
discussion here. England and France found their interests in 
grave jeopardy, and joined forces with Turkey to resist the Rus- 
sian move. 

In September, 1854, a powerful fleet appeared off the west 
coast of the Crimea (that bleak and sparsely settled peninsula 
that juts out into the Black Sea from the Russian shore), and, 
passing Sebastopol with its solid fortifications, its arsenals and 
dock-yards, moved northward and disembarked an army on the 
strand. For the first time in 500 years, England and France 
were to fight side by side. Marching southward, with the cholera 
as a companion, the allied army met the Russians on the banks 
of the Alma and won a victory by dint of hard fighting and 
sheer personal pluck. The Russians fell back to Sebastopol ; 
the French and English followed, and, instead of attacking at 
once and carrying the city with its somewhat demoralized garri- 
son by storm, as could have been done with much smaller loss 
than they had to undergo in the winter that followed, the leaders 
decided to lay siege to the city. The ground to the north did 
not seem favorable for siege approaches, especially as the broad, 
deep harbor lay between them and the town ; so they marched 
clear around it on the east and invested it from the south. This 
left open all the roads to Russia, and in a few days, troops, sup- 




1 



PERSONNEL OF THE ENGLISH ARMY. 589 

plies and provisions began to arrive in ample quantity from the 
north for the use of the garrison; and for a long time nothing 
came to help the British and French. The former had seized 
the little land-locked harbor of Balaclava to make it their supply 
depot, and thither the transports and war-ships were directed to 
sail; but all their infantry and artillery were needed in the 
trenches around Sebastopol ; and, to guard Balaclava from as- 
sault by the Russians, who had strong forces out, all over the Cri- 
mea, ready to swoop down on any undefended point, the English 
could only rely upon Sir Colin Campbell, with the Ninety-third 
Highlanders; and the cavalry division, which, not being available 
for siege duty, had gone into camp out in the open ground north- 
east of Balaclava. It numbered, all told, about 1,500 men. 

Lord Raglan was " commander of the forces " in the British 
army of occupation. He had given the best years of his life to 
the profession of arms ; had been a trusted staff-officer of the 
great Duke of Wellington; had served in the Peninsula, at 
Waterloo and in India. He and his infantry generals were men 
who were practised soldiers ; but in the English army, in those 
days of promotion by purchase and family influence, the cavalry 
was regarded as the " crack " arm of the service — the most aris- 
tocratic, desirable and chivalric. The British troopers were 
selected with the utmost care, and most thoroughly taught the 
use of the sword, and made to ride like centaurs. Men and horses 
were superb. Then, to keep alive their pride, their uniforms 
and equipments were of the most showy material and costly 
make. Each regiment had its distinctive number, name and 
traditions. Each had its "honors," and in the whole world 
there probably was not a more gallant and high-spirited body 
of young officers and men than went with England's cavalry 
division to the Crimea in 1854. It was composed of two brig- 
ades, one of light, the other of heavy cavalry. Next to the 
household brigade — the Queen's personal guards — the most aris- 
tocratic corps in the army were the hussars and lancers — the 
light cavalry ; but there was no- lack of gentle blood, and there 
was vast preponderance of solid British brawn and muscle in 
the dragoons, or "heavies," as they were called. England only 



590 BALACLAVA. 

sent 1,500 cavalry with its army of occupation to the Crimea, 
and before Balaclava, sickness had robbed the two brigades of 
many men and horses ; but in each brigade were five small regi- 
ments, and their names will go down to posterity as heroes of 
the most thrilling cavalry exploit of the nineteenth century. The 
Light Brigade was made up of the reduced "service squadrons" 
of the Eighth and Eleventh hussars (known among their com- 
rades as the Royal Irish and the " Cherry Pants," respectively) ; 
the Fourth and Thirteenth light dragoons, and the superb " death 
or glory " squadrons of the Seventeenth lancers. In all the 
British army, no regiments were more envied than the Eleventh 
hussars (the "Prince of Wales' Own"), and the Seventeenth lan- 
cers, that had fought in every war and every important battle 
where British colors waved, from the day of their organization. 
The officers of the Light Brigade were, as a rule, young gentle- 
men or noblemen of high birth and connection. Some few were 
experienced cavalrymen — all were brave. 

The Heavy Brigade was composed of five regiments of dra- 
goons, three of which were famous organizations, and had given 
to their organization the name of the "Union brigade." 
These were the three regiments of dragoon-guards known as the 
Royals, the Scots Greys and the Inniskillings, composed respect- 
ively of men recruited from England, Scotland and Ireland. The 
other two commands were the Fourth and Fifth dragoon-guards — 
fine soldiers, but not so renowned, perhaps, as their brigade com- 
rades who had fought together even at Waterloo, and between 
whom an almost romantic spirit of friendship and alliance existed. 
The dragoons were uniformed in scarlet, with heavy brass hel- 
mets and shoulder-scales, except the Scots Greys, who still clung 
to the massive bearskin head-gear they had been allowed to wear 
for a century, and were loth to part with, despite its cumbrous- 
ness as a horseman's hat. The Light Brigade wore the jaunty 
tunic and white facings in the lancer regiment, and the fanciful 
"busby" and fur-trimmed pelisse of blue in the hussars. Horses 
and men in the " Heavies " were of stouter build than in the 
light, but the latter affected a somewhat airy manner of superi- 
ority over their comrades. 



"TOO FINE FELLOWS FOR THEIR WORK." 591 

Now the Russian cavalry in the Crimea was numerically 
almost twenty times as strong as the British, and, whether lan- 
cers, hussars, dragoons, or the ubiquitous Cossacks, they were 
habited in immense gray overcoats and heavy caps of felt and 
fur that made admirable defensive armor against sword-cut or 
thrust. They were mounted on powerful, "stocky" horses; 
had been rigorously drilled and disciplined ; but the rank and 
file were of the same patient, docile, steadfast nature that made 
their infantry so reliable. Except the Cossacks, they utterly 
lacked the fire and enthusiasm, the sense of individuality which 
is so important to a good cavalry soldier. Imposing in mass 
and on parade, they had none of the dash that characterized the 
French and English troopers ; and, both at the Alma and during 
the movements around Sebastopol, they had been clumsily han- 
dled, and were held in little respect by their foes. 

But not only of the Russian cavalry was the British linesmen 
speaking disdainfully after the battle of the Alma ; all around 
among the camp-fires on the high plateau of the Chersonese, 
where the British infantry had pitched their tents, could be heard 
slurs and inuendos at the expense of the light cavalry brigade. 
"Too fine fellows for their work." "Too accustomed to being 
petted, spoiled and coddled at home to be worth anything in the 
field." They, too, had been faultily led and handled after the 
Alma, and now, camping in the south valley over under the pro- 
tecting shoulder of the Chersonese, their leader living and sleep- 
ing in pampered luxury on board his yacht in Balaclava harbor, 
they became the target for much unfriendly criticism among 
their own people; and the Light Brigade stood sorely in need of 
a brilliant battle in which to show the stuff they knew they had 
within them. 

They and their comrade " Heavies" were camped, as we have 
said, under the slopes of the Chersonese, down in the south val- 
ley. Now let us take a look at their leaders. 

It has been said that the cavalry officer is, like the poet, "born, 
not made;" but no man has ever yet proved himself a great 
cavalry leader without having first mastered the rudiments of 
mounted service, and spent some years in connection with it in 



59° BALACLAVA. 

the field. For years previous to the Crimean war, England had 
the finest practical cavalry-school in the world — India; and there 
were in her armies scores — perhaps hundreds — of thoroughly 
skilled and experienced officers of all grades, who had scouted, 
skirmished and fought with the war-like Sikhs through jungle, 
plain or mountain pass. The service had been severe, exacting, 
and full of danger and incessant alarm ; it had called for a high 
degree of personal courage and judgment, and in the constant 
exercise of every soldierly faculty, had made the English officers 
who had gone through the ordeal, most accomplished leaders of 
horse. Now that it became necessary to send a fine cavalry di- 
vision into active service against a powerful foe, renowned for 
his strength in that particular arm, the natural supposition would 
be that England would select for its leaders men, who had proved 
their worth as cavalry soldiers. It would be the obvious course 
of any sensible government. 

But England did nothing, of the kind. For commanders of 
her division and brigades, " Her Majesty's government " se- 
lected three gentlemen of high degree, who not only had never 
so much as seen service in the cavalry, but had absolutely seen 
no active service at all. Not one had ever taken part in cam- 
paign or battle. There were dozens of men amply qualified for 
the command and eager to take it, but they were not peers. 
England placed the flower of her army in the hands of three 
tyros — but two of these were peers. 

To the Earl of Lucan, who had modestly expressed a wish to 
be made use of in some capacity, England confided the whole 
division of cavalry. He had asked for an infantry brigade as 
best suited to his inexperience. To the Earl of Cardigan was 
intrusted the Light Brigade, and to the Right Honorable Yorke 
Scarlett were given the " Heavies." All three gentlemen were over 
fifty years of age. Lord Lucan was a lieutenant-general. Car- 
digan and Scarlett were brigadiers. Lucan and Cardigan were 
brothers-in-law and hated one another cordially. Each had un- 
bounded faith in his own knowledge and skill, and very little 
faith or respect for that of anybody else. Lucan was a man who 
speedily made himself known as a determined and unsparing 



THE ENGLISH CAVALRY LEADERS CONTRASTED. 593 

critic of the orders and actions of his superiors, a persistent 
growler and fault-finder, and he became almost immediately 
vastly unpopular in the army. Cardigan was a man full of love 
for the profession of arms. He had entered the most extravagant 
and gorgeous of the hussar regiments (the " Prince of Wales' 
Own ") when a young man, and the extraordinary system of pur- 
chase and nepotism combined, had enabled him in seven years to 
rise from the foot of its list of officers to the command of the 
" Cherry Pants." For a long time he had been its colonel " for 
his amusement," and, after being gazetted general of brigade, he 
still continued when on military duty to wear the superb uniform 
of his old regiment. It was the handsomest in the army and 
preferable on that account. But Cardigan was selfish to the 
core, arrogant and haughty with his juniors in rank, and holding 
himself aloof from all comradeship with his fellow-campaigners 
when they went to the bleak Crimea. At a time when the whole 
cavalry division was " roughing it " in camp under the shoulder 
of the Chersonese, when all was sickness, discomfort and priva- 
tion, when Lucan and Scarlett were sharing the hardships with 
their men, my Lord Cardigan was living and sleeping in luxury 
aboard his yacht in Balaclava harbor, only trotting over to camp 
occasionally to attend to routine duty and say rasping things to 
his officers. No " commoner " could have dared pursue such a 
course ; but when a peer of England chose to do his campaign- 
ing in that manner there was no one to say him nay. Lord 
Raglan, " commander of the forces," had not personal force 
enough to forbid it. 

General Scarlett was a man of totally different mould. Proud 
of his new command, he set himself diligently to work to 
qualify himself for the position, and speedily won the confidence 
and respect of officers and troopers alike. While Lucan and 
Cardigan chose as their aides-de-camp young officers of the 
nobility and aristocracy, without reference to their military 
ability, Scarlett picked out men distinguished for brilliancy 
and experience in war, without reference to their family influence 
or connections. This gave him the services of two admirable 
cavalry soldiers, Alexander Eliot and Colonel Beatson. 



594 BALACLAVA. 

Now to take a look at the ground. Sebastopol lay on the 
south side of a deep arm of the sea that stretched in, eastward, 
between steep and rugged shores. Massive fortifications of 
masonry were planted on every point, and every commanding 
piece of ground. Into the long narrow harbor there flowed 
from the southeast the river Tchernaya through a deep valley. 
South of the harbor the shore line jutted out into a bold promon- 
tory, then swept round eastward in precipitous cliffs for some 
miles, until a fissure-like opening in their face gave entrance to 
the little roadstead of Balaclava, a town and harbor which lay 
southeast of Sebastopol. A rough country road led up the 
heights back of Balaclava through the gorge of Kadikoi, and 
so over the bleak highlands of the Chersonese into Sebastopol 
itself. This " Chersonese " was a broad and too breezy upland, 
sloping gradually upwards and backwards away from the city 
and harbor, until within a mile and a half of Balaclava it dipped 
abruptly down into what has been called the plain, an open, 
undulating tract of country lying north of the little town, and 
extending from the Chersonese on the west to the ridge between 
it, and the valley of the Tchernaya on the east. Dividing it 
into two nearly equal oblong portions was a longitudinal ridge 
with occasional knolls or hummocks, and along this ridge ran 
the broad highway from Sebastopol to the southeast known as 
the Woronzoff road. The ridge was given the name of the 
Causeway Heights, and the oblong portions of the plain of 
Balaclava were called the North valley and South valley re- 
spectively, as they lay north or south of the highway. The! 
north valley was thus surrounded on four sides by rising 
ground ; west by the Chersonese bluffs, which overlooked the 
entire plain from a height of some four hundred feet ; north by 
the Fedioukine Heights ; east by Mount Hasfort of the Tcher- 
naya " divide," as it would be called on the plains of our great 
west, and south by the Causeway Heights. The entire north 
valley was open and admirably adapted for the movements of 
cavalry. 

The English and French armies were encamped around the 
south side of Sebastopol, the French nearest the sea ; only the 



RUSSIAN CAVALRY ATTACK. 595 

British cavalry and the Ninety-third Highlanders being near 
Balaclava. Under the guidance of English officers some 3,000 
Turks had been employed building earthen redoubts along the 
Causeway Heights, and planting guns therein to protect Balaclava 
from Russian attack from the valley of the Tchernaya. These 
attacks were frequently threatened, but nothing seemed to come 
of them. It was the 10th of October when the British "broke 
ground" for the siege around Sebastopol, and these threatened 
attacks on Balaclava were so frequent that when word was 
brought to Lord Raglan on the 24th that very heavy columns 
of the Russians were crossing the Tchernaya with the evident 
intention of an assault on the new works at Balaclava, he merely 
replied, " Very well," and went on with his conversation with 
the French general, and paid no further attention to the matter. 
Before dawn on October 25th the Russians were there, and in 
very strong force — General Liprandi with some i8,OOOmen hav- 
ing swooped down upon the Turks on the Causeway Heights, and 
General Jabrokritsky with perhaps 7,000 having seized a strong 
position on the Fedioukine Heights. The Turks, after a vigorous 
defence of the easternmost redoubt, were driven towards 
Balaclava in great confusion ; but the western half of the Cause- 
way Heights was saved by the firm stand made by Sir Colin 
Campbell and his regiment of Highlanders, and the active move- 
ments of the cavalry division which hovered about as though 
ready to attack and yet kept out of dangerous range. The Rus- 
sians had with them some seventy-eight field-guns of their own, 
and had captured a number more of English make from the 
Turkish redoubts on the Causeway Heights. 

The sound of battle had already reached Lord Raglan and 
General Canrobert in their camps on the Chersonese, and they 
had rapidly mounted and galloped to the edge of the plateau 
from whence they could overlook the entire scene. Raglan 
ordered forward two divisions of infantry, and Canrobert the fine 
cavalry of D'Allonville, but it took time to send to their camps, 
and longer to get them to the scene ; meantime there was peril 
at Balaclava. Captain Maude, whose battery of horse-artillery 
had accompanied the cavalry division, was severely wounded, 



596 BALACLAVA, 

and by orders of Lord Raglan, the cavalry were drawn back to 
the west end of the valleys, and just south of the Woronzoffroad. 

It was about half-past seven a. m. when the Russians succeeded 
in seizing the easternmost redoubts, and their next move was 
to assault the position occupied by the Ninety-third Highlanders, 
which covered Balaclava on the north. By this time the edge 
of the Chersonese overlooking the plain was thronged with 
spectators from the French and English camps, and one or two 
light-batteries had been " hitched in " and trotted thither, and 
were now unlimbered and ready to hurl plunging shots down 
into the valley should the Russians come that way, and come 
they did. 

It must be remembered that from the commanding height of 
the Chersonese (there called the Sapoune Heights), everything 
on the plain below looked to be about the same general level. 
This was not the case at all. The north valley sloped very 
gently down towards the east until it reached the base of Mount 
Hasfort, but the western end of the valley was cut up by vine- 
yards, farm enclosures, little hillocks and ridges; then there 
stood the upheaval of the Causeway Heights with its highway, 
and south of that, over on the slopes of the south valley, were 
the now abandoned camps of the cavalry division. From the 
point where the two brigades were now drawn up in line, they 
could not see anything approaching them along the north valley, 
though they could see the Russian guns and masses on the 
heights all around it. It so happened then, that towards nine 
o'clock, when General Ryjoff with thirty-two field-guns and an 
immense solid column of gray-clad horsemen came marching 
westward along the valley, not a single officer or man of the 
English cavalry division saw or heard of the move. They 
did not even have skirmishers or videttes on the ridges 
in front of them — an incomprehensible omission to American 
eyes. To Lord Raglan and the spectators on the heights, the 
whole scene was like a panorama. Orders had just been sent 
to detach eight squadrons to the assistance of the Turks at the 
gorge of Kadikoi'. Lord Lucan had despatched Scarlett with 
some of his " Heavies " on that mission, and at the same time 




ALEXANDER II., CZAR OF RUSSIA, 1877. 



POMPOSITY AND STUPIDITY OF CARDIGAN. 599 

moved the Light Brigade forward some two or three hundred 
yards into a position where they faced east directly down the 
north valley, and had himself ridden back towards the Cherso- 
nese, when there came from those heights the sound of two or 
three rapid gun-shots, the whistling of shells through the air 
over the Light Brigade, and the bang and "whirr-r-r" of their 
explosion farther to the front. Utterly surprised, Lord Lucan 
galloped to a neighboring hillock, and there caught sight of the 
heavy column of the Russians sweeping up the valley towards 
the Light Brigade. They were north of the Woronzoff road, yet 
not more than quarter of a mile from the slender lines of his 
lancers and hussars. Now, checked by the guns on the Sapoune 
Ridge, the whole mass at sound of the trumpet swung south- 
ward towards the Causeway Heights, moved slowly up that slope 
with the evident intention of crossing the Woronzoff road, and 
getting over into the south valley. In so doing, they passed 
squarely in front of the Light Brigade, presenting their right 
flank to attack, and, to the amaze and disgust of the lookers-on, 
the Light Brigade never budged. It was a splendid chance for 
Cardigan and his swordsmen to rush in on that flank, hack it 
up and get back with little or no loss, but Cardigan had been 
told to defend or " hold " that position, and, utterly ignoring the 
fact that cavalry can never defend by sitting still in the saddle 

can only defend by attacking, in fact — the titled blockhead sat 

stiffly in front of his command, and let the opportunity slip. He 
had a glorious cavalry soldier close by his side, Captain Morris, 
commanding the Seventeenth lancers ; and Morris, seeing the 
golden moment going by, ventured to break through the iron- 
clad reserve and distance maintained in English official circles, 
and beg of Lord Cardigan permission to charge with his regi- 
ment at least. He was rudely and haughtily snubbed for his 
pains. 

But even as the spectators on the crest were anathematizing 
Lord Cardigan for his inaction, they were greeted by a change 
in the shifting scene below that excited their utmost delight and 
enthusiasm, not unmixed with anxiety. 

Scarlett with his eight squadrons had marched off towards 



600 BALACLAVA. 

Kadiko'i, was passing behind a thick vineyard or plantation 
partly concealing him from the Causeway Heights, and then 
moving out on the open ground, was riding on the left flank of 
his little brigade with the Inniskilling's Second squadron and 
the Scots Greys nearest him, when, glancing to the left, the 
quick eye of his aide-de-camp, Lieutenant Eliot, was attracted 
by a bristling of lance-points peeping up over the Causeway 
Heights to the north. Then came the pennons or "banderoles," 
as the swallow-tailed lance flags are called, and in solid squad- 
rons riding " closed in mass" 3,000 Russian horsemen suddenly; 
appeared. It was a sight to shake the nerve of any soldier. 
Not six hundred yards away, these ponderous masses came 
trotting over the ridge apparently bent on rushing down the 
slope and overwhelming the slender ranks of the British, but 
when light guns began to pop up the crest beside them, and 
more squadrons show in their rear, things looked desperate. 
A justifiable impulse on the part of any cavalryman with so 
small a force as Scarlett's would have been to wheel to the right 
and trot rapidly off out of the way, but Scarlett was a bull-dog. 
He wheeled to the left, and flew straight at the throat of his foe. 
It was simply magnificent. " Left wheel into line " was the 
ringing order from his lips. The trumpets echoed the signal ; 
the slender red ranks swung round to the left, halted, "dressed" 
as though on drill, and then, as though stunned by the very 
audacity of his island enemy, the Russian commander ordered 
halt ! Anything more idiotic he could not have done. Had he 
kept on — riding down the slope at rapid trot — the mere weight 
and inertia of his sixteen-deep squadrons would have rolled 
over the two-rank formation of the British and swept them from 
the field. Scarlett and Eliot saw the woful blunder at the in- 
stant. " Forward " was the order, then came " gallop " and, as 
they neared the amazed thousands in dusky gray, " charge ! " 
and, way ahead of their leading line, Scarlett and Eliot, side by 
side, close followed by their trumpeter and "orderly" (the latter 
a powerful and veteran swordsman, whose very name, Shegog, 
gave the idea of a giant), crashed headlong into the solid mass 
of Russians. A splendid-looking officer sat in his saddle in 



CHARGE OF THE HEAVY BRIGADE. 601 

front of the centre of the line. General Scarlett wore the red 
coat and brass helmet of his brigade ; Eliot the chapeau and 
blue frock of the staff officer, and the Russian colonel, sup- 
posing the latter to be the ranking officer — a general, perhaps — 
let Scarlett rush past him unopposed, but made a furious cut at 
Eliot as the latter dashed by on his right ; but Eliot's ready 
blade parried the blow and in the same instant drove to the very 
hilt through the colonel's body, whirled him round in his saddle, 
and hurled him to earth a corpse, while the Englishman's charger 
bore the aide-de-camp and his now reeking sabre into the midst 
of the enemy. Behind them, with low, savage roar, came the 
rank of Scots' Greys. Off to their right, with a wild Irish 
" hurroo," the Inniskillings crashed in on the Russian mass, and 
then began the most extraordinary cavalry combat on record. 
Three hundred British troopers were endeavoring to hew their 
way up hill through three thousand Russians. Their horses 
had wedged their way in among the leading ranks, and, hewing, 
hacking, thrusting, hurling men out of the saddle with their 
brawny arms, the stalwart Scotch and half-savage Paddies were 
playing havoc with the helpless Muscovites. They and their 
officers seemed paralyzed by the audacity of the Islanders. Al- 
ready had Scarlett cut his way into the very centre of the mass, 
and the leading ranks of Greys and Inniskillings were abso- 
lutely swallowed up in the Russian square (for such it practically 
was), but, though in imminent peril themselves, such was the 
activity of their good swords, and so great was the consternation 
of the enemy, that in many instances Russian horsemen threw 
themselves out of their saddles and took refuge among the 
chargers' heels rather than face the British blades. 

And yet there was very little slaughter going on after the on- 
set. The thick head-gear of the Russians and the very heavy 
material of their overcoats proved most effective defensive armor 
against the whirling sword-blades, while British helmet and 
bear-skin shako answered a like purpose. The horses, wedged 
in like cattle in a pen, ducked their heads for shelter from the 
rain of blows, and though fierce and savage cuts and thrusts 
were given in every direction, and blood flowed freely from 



602 BALACLAVA. 

gaping wounds on head and face, comparatively few mortal hurts 
had been inflicted. Hardly a man of the Heavies escaped with- 
out some memento of the combat. 

But now the Royals and the Fourth and Fifth Dragoon 
Guards, who had been farther to the rear when Scarlett made 
his daring rush, came tearing in at headlong charge — the Royals 
trotting up to a point opposite the Russian right, between them 
and the envious horsemen of the Light Brigade, then wheeled 
into line to their right, took the gallop and charge, and burst 
upon the flank at right-angles to the line of Greys and Innis- 
killings. Lord Lucan himself had arrived on the scene and 
directed the assault to the aid of Scarlett ; and now, riven from 
front to centre by the piercing sabres of their first assailants, 
and furiously charged on both flanks by fresh and confident 
horsemen, the whole Russian mass seemed to heave helplessly 
backward up the slope; then to disintegrate and crumble away; 
then to surge back in a dingy gray torrent on the supporting 
Cossacks, sweeping them away with their flood ; then the guns 
whirled about and with galloping steeds went thundering away 
down the north valley, and in less time than it takes to write 
it, the whole column of General Ryjoff was in disorderly rout 
towards the east. Now, now was the time for Cardigan. There 
he sat with nearly seven hundred eager troopers almost implor- 
ing to be let go ; officers and men fairly ready to cry with rage 
and mortification at being held back. Now was his time to 
launch in the Light Brigade, and Ryjoff's horsemen would 
never have rallied this side of the Tchernaya, and under the very 
noses of Liprandi and Jabrokritsky, the British cavalry could 
have taken every one of the Russian horse-batteries, and won a 
victory over four times their weight in foes that would have 
thrilled the world with admiration ; but the hero of the Home 
office, the chosen of her majesty's ministry, had about as much 
idea of the use of cavalry as he had of morality. " Damn those 
Heavies. They've got the laugh of us this day," was his com- 
ment on the situation, and to the absolute amaze of the throng 
of spectators on the heights, to the sly ridicule of the French, to 
the groaning disappointment of the English, the " swells " of the 



BRILLIANT INDIVIDUAL EXPLOITS. 603 

Light Brigade were held in the leash, and the Russians got 
away in safety. Scarlett's men, exhausted, were rallied and re- 
formed. Ryjoff's guns and horse scampered to the other end 
of the valley, a mile and a half away, then reined about and once 
more faced westward. The chance was gone. 

So far the honors of the day were with the "Heavies." 
Most gallantly had they borne themselves — most astonish- 
ing was their success, yet their loss was only seventy-eight 
killed and seriously wounded, but the " scratches " and cuts 
were innumerable ; and now as, panting for breath, they slowly 
returned from the brief pursuit, cheer upon cheer went up 
from the swarms of spectators. " Well done ! " came from the 
lips of Lord Raglan ; and brave old Sir Colin Campbell rode 
over in front of his countrymen, uncovered his white head and 
called them by their old pet name : " Greys ! gallant Greys ! I 
should be proud to be in your ranks." 

Well they deserved the lavish praises ! Double their number 
in Russian horsemen were left upon the ground dead or harm- 
less. It was the grandest cavalry exploit of the century — even 
Murat had done nothing to excel it. 

Now to speak of some individual experiences that should never 
be forgotten in connection with this fight. 

The first to pierce the Russian mass was Scarlett himself, a 
man who had no pretensions to being much of a swordsman, 
but such was his courage and vim that he not only bore himself 
superbly through the host of hostile swords and lances, but ab- 
solutely cut his way entirely through the square and emerged, 
battered and bleeding, but still erect in the saddle, on the left 
flank of the Russian cavalry in plain sight of Lord Lucan, who 
was then directing the assault of the Fifth Dragoon Guards. 
The brigadier had received five sharp and painful wounds from 
lance or sabre, and his helmet was battered into a shapeless 
mass, but he hardly seemed to know he was hurt. Colonel 
Griffith of the Scots Greys had been shot in the head by a 
carbine ball early in the charge. Major Clarke of the Greys 
lost his bearskin shako, but leaped into the fight bare-headed, 
and was in desperate danger until rescued by his men. The 



004 BALACLAVA. 

instances of personal bravery and daring are innumerable, but 
of one man, especially, the " Heavies " could never say enough : 
that man was Alexander Eliot. 

He it will be remembered had killed the first of the enemy, 
the Russian officer who led the centre, and then, jerking out his 
sword, but never slackening the pace, had leaped in among the 
gray coats. His distinctive dress, that of the staff-officer, made 
him the conspicuous object of the enemy's attention. Believing 
him to be the general they swarmed upon him from every side, 
but his sword-play was wonderful, and man after man went 
down before him. It was a revival of the old-time fighting — the 
days of mace and battle-axe, and mailed knight errantry ; only 
Eliot had neither shield, casque nor coat of mail ; his heavy 
sword, unusually long, strong and sharp, served both for offence 
and defence, and he found an unexpected ally in his charger. 
The horse was so furious at being swarmed upon and crowded 
by the Russian steeds that he took to biting, kicking and lash- 
ing out with his heels in every direction, vastly aiding his mas- 
ter in warding off attacks from the rear. But Eliot had cut his 
way in so far as to be alone in the midst of enemies, and a 
dozen seemed bent on despatching him. A sabre-gash in the 
forehead blinded him for a moment, the blood flowing into his 
eyes, and with savage yells the Russians closed in around him, and 
all in an instant one sword cut a deep slashing wound right down 
the middle of his face, another crashed through his chapeau, 
and another still, a weighty one, laid bare the skull behind the 
ear. Bleeding from every pore, the daring fellow, nevertheless, 
fought on, giving full measure for all he got ; and when at last 
the Russians were put to rout, and he was picked up uncon- 
scious but alive, fourteen gaping sabre and lance wounds were 
counted upon him as his share of the honorable trophies of 
combat. No wonder Greys and Royals and Inniskillings 
cheered the gallant aide-de-camp. No wonder General Scarlett 
in his report of the battle to Lord Lucan mentioned Lieutenant 
Eliot, as especially " entitled to the notice of the commander 
of the forces," and eventually named him for the Victoria Cross. 
No wonder all right-thinking men and honest soldiers swore at 



INSUFFERABLE ARROGANCE OF LUCAN. 607 

the cool, insufferable arrogance with which Lord Lucan treated 
Scarlett's recommendations. Eliot's name was not even " men- 
tioned in the despatches," and Lord Lucan's report of the cavalry 
engagements of the 25th of October merely allude to him as 
" slightly wounded." 

Just how to reconcile Lord Lucan's conduct towards this 
heroic soldier with his pretensions of being himself an officer 
and a gentleman, is for American soldiers too complex a 
problem. Scarlett's report of the action was made two days 
after it occurred, and never till the following December did he 
learn that Eliot had been entirely ignored by the division com- 
mander. That he should be refused the Victoria Cross on plea 
that in being the most conspicuous man in the fight " he had 
done no more than his duty " was perhaps to be expected ; but 
it may be safely asserted that no such excuse would have 
been resorted to had Eliot been the son of a peer of the realm. 

Called upon to explain his omission of Eliot's name in the 
despatches, Lord Lucan replied : " I did not consider it fitting 
especially to name him. ... I think that the obvious conse- 
quences of such general and indiscriminate recommendations 
would be that but little value would be attached to general 
officers' requests." 

No; Lord Lucan declined to mention Mr. Eliot, who was the 
hero of the charge of the Heavy Brigade. Instead of him he 
named as most distinguished, his own aide-de-camp, who took no 
part whatsoever in either of the great charges, and the nature of 
whose gallant services on that day is, to this, an impenetrable 
mystery. 

However, this was by no means Lord Lucan's worst blunder 
at Balaclava. It is small wonder that even the imbecility of the 
British war-office could put up with his incapacities no longer, 
and that it speedily became necessary to relieve him of the com- 
mand of what he had not sacrificed of his division, and send him 
home. The most patient and painstaking and loyal of English 
historians, Mr. Kinglake, can find little or nothing to say in ex- 
tenuation of his lordship's colossal shortcomings as a com- 
mander ; and it is to his elaborate account of Balaclava that we 



gOg BALACLAVA. 

are mainly indebted for the details of the affair. Lord Lucan 
was destined to sacrifice the flower of the British army — the 
gallant and spirited Light Brigade. 

The wonderful exploit of the " Heavies " had been witnessed by 
thousands of stunned foemen as well as by hundreds of delighted 
friends. By this time the Sapoune Heights began to blaze with 
the scarlet tunics of the guardsmen under the Duke of Cam- 
bridge, and those of the Light Division. Lord Raglan's rein- 
forcements were coming up. 

On the other hand Ryjoff's disordered cavalry, accompanied 
by the light guns, had scurried back down the long north valley, 
and then, finding itself unpursued (for Scarlett's men were 
breathless and Cardigan's held in restraint), had at last rallied 
under the slopes of Mount Hasfort, and then the Cossack bat- 
teries unlimbered their ugly black guns, and now a dozen of 
them were pointing squarely up the valley in case the British 
horsemen should advance. Off on the Fedioukine Heights, 
north of the valley, the slopes for nearly a mile and a half were 
lined with field-guns and riflemen from the Russian ranks, and 
over on the Causeway Heights to the south, the Odessa regi- 
ment was slowly retiring from its advanced position, and falling 
back eastward upon the heavy supports farther along the ridge. 
But they were not going empty-handed. Far up on the 
Chersonese, keen-sighted soldiers had marked the scurry of 
artillery teams. Already, seeing the Russian infantry falling 
back, Lord Raglan had sent to Lord Lucan an order in writ- 
ing : " Cavalry to advance and take advantage of any opportunity 
to recover the heights," and Lucan, who now had his whole 
division in line facing down the North valley just north of the 
Woronzoff road, was giving the Heavies a brief breathing spell, 
and casting about in his mind for the actual meaning of this 
order, spent very nearly an hour in doing absolutely nothing, 
when, sudden, sharp and peremptory, there came an order which 
admitted of no temporizing. By this time Lord Raglan, his 
staff, and all spectators were chafing with excitement, even of 
indignation at Lucan's torpor, for, over to the right front, in 
plain view of the Sapoune Heights, the Russians were hitching 



LORD RAGLAN'S FAMOUS ORDER. 60f 

spare teams to the guns in the abandoned redoubts along the 
Causeway, and were lugging them off to the rear. These were 
English guns, and "the idea of letting them go in this way was 
shameful. Some of the younger officers were vehemently growling 
their " impatience and indignation," and Lord Raglan, fired by 
the sight, directed his chief of staff, General Airey, to write an 
immediate order to Lord Lucan to advance and put a stop to the 
Russian captures. Airey wrote the order in pencil and it read 
thus : 

" Lord Raglan wishes the cavalry to advance rapidly to the front, and try to 
prevent the enemy carrying away the guns. Troop of horse artillery may accom- 
pany. French cavalry is on your left. Immediate. 

(Signed) " R. Airey." 

The words of the order left not the faintest doubt what " guns " 
were meant, for the only guns the Russians were " carrying off" 
were those on the Causeway Heights to the right front of the 
cavalry division, and when Lucan combined that order with the 
one directing him to reoccupy the heights, there was absolutely 
nothing to admit of his supposing that any other guns were 
meant. But Lucan, we have said, was a persistent critic of all 
orders from superior authority. He never obeyed an order 
without first endeavoring to pick it to pieces, and this particular 
order came to him in a manner that made him more than usually 
crabbed and ill-disposed. The circumstances were as follows : 

Lord Raglan had already begun to fathom the character of his 
crotchety chief of cavalry ; but, respecting the undoubted cour- 
age and energy of the man, he had sought to humor him as 
much as possible, and to avoid giving him opportunity for tak- 
ing offence. To this end, knowing Lord Lucan's petulant 
objection to instructions or orders coming through the chief of 
staff of the army, General Airey, " the commander of the forces " 
had frequently sent them in his own hand, an amiable piece of 
weakness that should have had no place in active campaigning. 
Lucan disliked General Airey, and strove to ignore him on all 
occasions when it could be done, and now he was about to receive 
an order written and signed by General Airey, and more than that, 
borne by General Airey's aide-de-camp. It was absolutely none 



QIQ BALACLAVA. 

of his business who was the bearer. So long as it was signed 
by the chief of staff or an aide-de-camp of Lord Raglan, and given 
in Lord Raglan's name, it was his duty to receive it with all 
soldierly respect and obey it accordingly. He did neither. The 
instant he had read it he dared to break out into an insubordi- 
nate denunciation of the order, and virtually to challenge the 
aide-de-camp who bore it, to a defence of its merits. He believed 
it to be Airey's order, for here it came by Airey's aide-de-camp, 
Captain Louis Nolan, and of all men in the English army Nolan 
was perhaps the last one from whose hands Lord Lucan would' 
have kindly received an order of any kind. 

There was a singular fatality in the selection of this young 
cavalry captain as bearer of the message. Colonel Calthorpe, 
Lord Raglan's own aide, was seated in the saddle at his side as 
Airey finished writing, and yet his lordship called up Airey's 
aide-de-camp, intrusted the paper to him, and bade him deliver 
it with all speed. They were up on the crest of the Sapoune 
Heights it will be remembered, and the whole animated scene lay 
before their eyes. Lord Lucan was sitting out in front of his 
division, half a mile, probably, from the base of the heights, and 
several hundred feet below them. The road wound its way down 
along the slopes, a devious course. Perhaps it was because Lord 
Raglan wished to avail himself of Nolan's superb horsemanship 
that he selected him. Certain it is that the instant the order 
was in his hand the captain put spurs to his horse, and, disdain- 
ing the gradual descent of the highway, darted straight down the 
steep hillside, swift and straight as any Sioux Indian would ride, 
and all men watched him admiringly as he sped on the last 
errand of his soldierly life. 

Louis Nolan was a vehement and enthusiastic lover of his 
profession. He believed that there was nothing a cavalryman 
could not do in the way of clearing a battle-field of all enemies. 
He had for two months past been chafing and swearing over the 
inaction of his comrades. He had heard the covert sneers at 
the expense of his idols, the Light Brigade, and was stung to the 
quick at the contemplation of their neglected opportunities after 
the battle of the Alma. He blamed it all on Lord Lucan. He 



ENTHUSIASM OF CAPTAIN NOLAN. 611 

openly spoke of him as the clog to all action on the part of the 
cavalry division, and criticised the division commander as freely 
as the latter criticised his own superiors. With all its pomp, 
formality and etiquette, there must have been an odd state of 
discipline in the British army in 1854. Very probably some of 
this talk had reached Lucan's ears, and added to his dislike of 
the brilliant young cavalryman, who, a commoner, had dared 
criticise his methods. At all events he was in no mood to be 
told to do anything through such a channel. 

It so happened that Nolan, sweeping around the flank of the 
horse at rapid gallop in search of their chief, had to make a large 
circle with his own steed before he reined up in front of Lord 
Lucan. His back was now down the valley, he was facing the 
general, the centre of the division, and the broad background 
of the Sapoune Heights, which he had just quitted. Breathlessly 
the officers and men of the two brigades watched the gallant 
young aide they knew so well, as, saluting with calm respect, he 
handed the fateful despatch to Lord Lucan. Well they knew it 
meant another fight, and eager and impatient hearts were beating 
throughout the silent ranks. 

Lord Lucan took and read with angry eyes the hurriedly writ- 
ten lines. Then, glaring at the aide-de-camp, he broke forth 
into his ill-tempered and insubordinate tirade against the order. 
He had not even cafefully read the words. He was obliged to 
admit in his report two days after, that he was " instructed to 
make a rapid advance to prevent the enemy carrying the guns 
lost by the Turkish troops in the morning;" but now, ready to 
snarl and find fault, he chose to think that he was ordered to 
attack the strong position of the Cossack battery way down the 
valley. Seated on their horses, a low ridge in their front pre- 
vented Lucan and his staff, so he said, from seeing the guns 
themselves, and this gave him another opportunity. 

Feeling that no time was to be lost, and that he was called 
upon to answer the denunciation of the order, Captain Nolan, 
still respectfully (though with marked emphasis, for he was burn- 
ing with zeal and impatience, and raging in his heart at this per- 
sistent old obstructer of all cavalry enterprise), replied : " Lord 



612 BALACLAVA. 

Raglan's orders are, that the cavalry should attack immedi- 
ately." 

And then again, angrily, even contemptuously, Lord Lucan 
spoke : 

"Attack, sir! Attack what? What guns, sir?" 

It was too much for Nolan's fiery nature. Throwing back his 
head, and pointing over his shoulder, the young captain answered 
in a most significant manner : 

" There, my lord, is your enemy ; there are your guns." i 

And Lord Lucan declares that he pointed not towards the' 
Causeway Heights, but squarely down the valley towards the 
Cossack battery. 

It is too poor, too pitiful an excuse for a man of Lucan's 
character to urge, but urge it he did. He held in his hand the 
order which set down in black and white the guns he was to 
ride at, and he ignored that order, permitted the thoughtless 
gesture of an irritated staff-officer to take its place, and — 
launched in the gallant Light Brigade to its martyrdom. 

Turning away in hot-headed wrath, alone and unattended, he 
rode out to where Cardigan sat, in front of the light dragoons 
and lancers. The Heavies had done their share of the sharp 
work. Now the " fine gentlemen " should have their turn. 
Nolan's rebuke was audible to half the command, and Lord 
Lucan was in no fit frame of mind to consider the case. When 
the question arose next day as to who was responsible for the 
slaughter, Cardigan and Lucan differed utterly in their state- 
ments. Lucan declared that he told Cardigan simply " to ad- 
vance, keeping his men well in hand," and did not order an 
attack. Cardigan said that his orders from Lucan were explicit 
— "Attack the enemy in the valley " — and the weight of testi- 
mony would go to show that Cardigan tells the truth. Lord 
Lucan was confessedly in an excited and angered frame of 
mind. Cardigan was utterly cool and composed, far better fit to 
judge exactly what was said. But that is not all. There is 
even stronger evidence that Lord Lucan gave the order to at- 
tack the battery at the other end of the valley, for he admits 
that Cardigan's next words were as Cardigan himself reports 



LUCAN AND CARDIGAN DISAGREE. G 1 3 

them, and the latter would have had no occasion to use the 
words, if he had not understood that the order required him to 
move squarely down the valley between the bristling heights. 
It seems that on receiving the instructions of his division 
commander, Lord Cardigan lowered his sword in salute and 
said : 

"Certainly, sir; but allow me to point out to you that the 
Russians have a battery in the valley in our front, and batteries 
and riflemen on each flank," and Lord Lucan, shrugging his 
shoulders, answered : " I know it, but Lord Raglan will have 
it, and we have no choice but to obey," and so saying, he con- 
demned his heroic men to a wild and senseless assault that Lord 
Raglan never for an instant contemplated, and that had he been 
any kind of a cavalry-soldier, Lord Lucan could never have 
ordered. The Light Brigade was to charge through a mile-long 
lane of batteries and riflemen, and attack directly in front, twelve 
guns supported by ten times their force in cavalry, and while 
Lucan promised to support with the Heavy Brigade, and 
D'Allonville, with the French cavalry, proposed to attack the 
Russians on the Fedioukine Heights, and the infantry divisions 
were moving down upon the plain, Lord Cardigan knew that the 
whole brunt of the action would fall upon him and his gallant 
little regiments ; but with one sweeping glance along their eager 
ranks, he gave his quiet order. 

The brigade was drawn up in two lines. The first was made 
up of the Thirteenth Light Dragoons, Seventeenth Lancers and 
the gorgeous Eleventh Hussars; the second, of the Eighth Hus- 
sars and the Fourth Light Dragoons ; but as Lord Cardigan placed 
himself in front, and calmly ordered " The brigade will advance," 
Lucan himself directed Colonel Douglas with the Eleventh 
Hussars to fall back and act in support, and so it happened that 
as the brilliantly uniformed little command swept forward, three 
distinct lines were noticed ; Cardigan himself, glittering in the 
gold-trimmed pelisse and crimson trousers of his pet regiment, 
the Eleventh Hussars, rode well out to the front of all, Captains 
Oldham of the Thirteenth and Morris of the Seventeenth led 
the centres of their regiments. Colonel Douglas appeared in 



614 BALACLAVA. 

front of the beautiful squadrons of the Eleventh, and Lord 
George Paget and Colonel Shewell led those of the Fourth and 
Eighth in the rear. 

It was a glorious moment. The eyes of five nations were 
fixed on that enthusiastic little command as the "Six Hundred" 
shook free their bridle-reins, grasped firmly lance or sabre, and 
at quiet walk disengaged themselves from the lines of the 
Heavy Brigade, and, ascending the gentle slope before them, 
came upon the low ridge which, curtain-like, had shut off their 
view down the valley, and now the whole scene lay before them. 
Off to their right front on the Causeway, the Russians were 
hurriedly hitching and driving off the captured guns. These 
slopes were clear of rock or tree. Nothing intervened between 
them and the retreating infantry and the scurrying teams to 
prevent a full, free gallop up, and in among the captured guns. 
All that was needed was a quarter wheel to the right to bring 
them directly upon the proper course, a slight deflection of not 
more than thirty degrees. Square to their front they could see 
the dark-gray masses of Ryjoff's squadrons, and the black- 
blotches of the Cossack guns and gunners across the valley ; 
while both on right and left-front, on Causeway crest and 
Fedioukine, the slopes were thick with guns and riflemen. For 
weeks they had been chafing with eagerness for just such a 
sight. The chivalry, the knightood, the "gallants of England " 
rode in those dainty ranks, and all athrob with exultant, daring 
courage, they pressed forward in eager desire to show the world 
the mettle of the Light Brigade. ! 

Far back on the Sapoune Heights all eyes are strained in 
eager and confident gaze upon their move. From Lord Raglan 
down, every spectator expects to see them wheel or incline 
slightly to the right, then take the trot, gallop and sweep across 
the valley to the Causeway Heights. No one questions for an 
instant their ability to retake the guns, even though the Russian 
foot turn back to defend them. Already they have moved some 
two hundred yards to the front. Scarlett's heavies are begin- 
ning their advance. DAllonville's Chasseurs d ' Afrique are 
crossing to the left front, just under the Chersonese, and still 



THE LIGHT BRIGADE DARTING INTO DEATH. 615 

Cardigan is riding straight forward. " Why don't he wheel ? " 
is the anxious question. Then a trumpet-call floats upward 
from the plain below. "Ah ! there goes the signal. Now he's 
all right," say some with a sigh of relief. " No, by heaven ! 
it was trot he sounded. Look, look ! " is the excited cry of 
another looker-on. What can it mean ? what can it mean ? In- 
stead of changing direction to the right the Light Brigade has 
taken a rapid trot and is moving straight down the valley in the 
very teeth of the Russian guns, and see ! there goes Lucan with 
the Heavies almost in their tracks. God of battles, what mad- 
ness ! what suicide ! Is there no way to stop them ? Can noth- 
ing be done ? Staff-officers leap into saddle. Strong men 
burst into tears of rage and dismay. Vain every word of recall. 
No horse can catch them now. The Light Brigade is darting 
into death. 

Off on the Causeway Heights, feeling sure that they must be 
the object of attack, the infantry are forming squares to resist 
cavalry. The riflemen are running to cover, the guns are " lim- 
bering-up ; " but even as skirmishers run and gunners work, their 
officers note, first with incredulity, then amaze, then exultation, 
that the brilliant horsemen are not coming their way. Passing 
them by they are rashly, daringly trotting to the very jaws of 
destruction, heading down the valley. For an instant the 
battery-men cannot realize the truth. Then the stern word 
of command brings them to their senses, quickly the guns are 
swung about, the black muzzles trained down into the valley _ 
the shells rammed home, and in another instant, right, left and 
front, the ten gallant squadrons are enveloped in the smoke of 
an hundred guns, and round-shot, shell and canister are shriek- 
ing through the devoted ranks. Then the pace quickens ; a 
dense cloud of mingled shell-smoke and dust settles in the 
valley, and with the thundering roar of the Russian guns shak- 
ing the earth and dinning their ears, the amazed and grief- 
stricken spectators on the Chersonese take their last look at the 
Light Brigade. It is swallowed up in " the jaws of hell." 

Lord Cardigan had received his orders with becoming courtesy 
and respect, had pointed out to his very much detested brother- 



616 BALACLAVA. 

in-law the extreme peril of the attack which the latter had 
ordered, and then, finding him inflexible, had contented himself 
with saying to Lord George Paget, colonel of the Fourth 
dragoons : " I expect your best support. Mind, Lord George, 
your best support," and then had taken his place way in front 
of everybody and given the order to advance. From this mo- 
ment he never once looked back until the charge was over 
Once well forward in plain view of the enemy he had struck a 
rapid trot, the brigade took up the same gait, and then, without 
a word from any one except an occasional " Steady," " Keepl 
back there on the right," " Back left flank," or a caution to some 
too eager trooper, the Six Hundred swept onward. And now 
came the first tragedy. 

Having given his instructions to Lord Lucan, Captain Nolan 
had ridden back among the file-closers in rear of the Seventeenth 
lancers, and was gleefully congratulating his comrades on the 
brilliant prospect before them, when the trumpets sounded the 
advance, and Nolan, drawing his sword, determined to have " his 
share of the dance." For a moment or two he rode in rear of 
the Seventeenth, for by the etiquette of the British cavalry only 
commanders of regiments or squadrons could lead in a charge ; 
but all of a sudden there came the signal to trot, and then to 
his dismay Nolan saw that instead of sweeping around to the 
right towards the Causeway, the brigade was going straight 
ahead down the valley — the very last place they should go. In 
utter consternation now, forgetting all formality, he dashed 
around the left flank of the lancers and obliquely across the 
front of the brigade, well out in front of Lord Cardigan himself, 
shouting : " This way, this way," and pointing with his sword 
towards the guns on the Causeway. Cardigan, furious at such 
a piece of audacious interference on part of a mere captain, paid 
no attention whatever to his vehement signals, and would 
doubtless have ordered him out of the way, when a shell, burst- 
ing in air, sent a whirring fragment through the gallant breast of 
the foremost soldier, and, with his heart torn in twain, with his 
sabre arm still uplifted, with an appalling death-cry on his lips, 
poor Louis Nolan, a superb horseman even when his soul had 



NOLAN THE FIRST VICTIM. 617 

fled, rode back a corpse through the interval between the lancers 
and dragoons, and there the life-ridden body slowly toppled from 
the saddle and sank to earth. With him went the last chance 
of saving the Light Brigade. Its most enthusiastic champion, 
Nolan was the first to fall. 

And now with shot and shell crashing through their ranks his 
comrades are spurring on. No one cares to ask where they are 
going. No one " reasons why." Deeper into the smoke-black- 
ened valley they plunge ; horses and men going headlong to 
earth every instant, and still at that relentless, inflexible trot, no 
faster, no slower, Cardigan leads them down. Enveloped in a 
perfect hell of fire, closing in their shattered ranks, they keep on 
their desperate way ; no guide now but the flash of those death- 
dealing guns in front ; no support or aid of any kind, for Lucan 
is almost out of range behind, and D'Allonville has not yet 
reached the Fedioukine. One-half the leading rank is by this 
time shot away, and the supports are riding over prostrate corses 
of charger and trooper, or striving to leap over or by many a 
struggling form. Riderless horses with piteous cries are crowd- 
ing into their old places in the ranks with that strange instinct 
that leads all old chargers to seek their accustomed place in 
the turmoil of battle. Other horses, some dragging the senseless 
form of their masters, crowd between the squadrons. Others still 
range alongside the squadron leaders of the second and third 
lines. Lord George Paget has to use his sword to free himself 
from their gory flanks. The fire is so murderous that Captain 
White, of the Seventeenth, eagerly strives to force the pace and 
get in among the guns ; but Cardigan, martinet to the last, sternly 
checks him until they are within a hundred yards of the battery, 
and then, with one mad impulse, the first line, dragoons and 
lancers, leaps forward at racing speed into the bank of smoke, and 
all formation is lost in the dash of the hunting-field. One last 
salvo is given by the battery, a parting salute that sweeps down 
many a superb soldier, for here Captains Oldham and Goad, of 
the Thirteenth, and Winter and Thompson, of the Seventeenth, 
are killed. Captains White and Webb and Sir William Gordon 
are hurled to earth, and Sir George Wombwell, Cardigan's aide, 



618 BALACLAVA. 

loses his horse. Only some fifty men, all told, are left to repre- 
sent that heroic front line ; but " plunged in the battery smoke " 
in they rush, Cardigan and Morris leading faultlessly on, and 
with one ringing cheer they burst upon the cavalry supports be- 
hind the battery. Morris' sword is driven to the hilt through the 
body of the Russian squadron leader, and, as the transfixed 
corpse goes crashing to the ground, Morris himself, hacked over 
the head by furious swordsmen, falls senseless upon the body of 
his victim. Then in come the light horsemen of the Eleventh 
Hussars, cruelly, pitifully diminished in numbers, but still superb 
in their array ; and, abandoning their guns, the Russians wheel 
about and flee in terror for the valley of the Tchernaya behind 
them. 

Shewell, with the single squadron of the Royal Irish, is driv- 
ing a whole regiment of gray-coated cavalry. Douglas and 
Paget, with the remnant of the Eleventh and Fourth, are hewing 
at the backs of the fugitive squadrons. All is in precipitate 
retreat before the battle-thinned bands of English horsemen; 
but, little by little, the Russian officers are able to see that they 
are pursued by a mere handful, and call upon their men to halt 
and rally ; little by little the pursuers pause for breath and look 
about them, and then comes the moment when what is left of 
the Light Brigade finds it necessary to fall back. It has ridden 
deep into the very centre of an overpowering enemy. It is 
utterly without support. It has made the most daring and 
desperate charge in the annals of history. Two-thirds of its 
numbers are stretched dead, dying or wounded upon their torn 
and blood-stained track, and now, the wearied survivors must 
" hark back " to their lines. A second time they must run the 
gauntlet of those guns and riflemen, and drifting back through 
the Cossack battery, now silent and abandoned, they come upon 
scores of these half-savage horsemen engaged in the brutal 
task of prodding to death the helpless and wounded troopers 
who had fallen in the charge. 

Slowly, painfully the survivors make their way towards the 
upper end of the now corpse-strewn valley, dark and sombre 
under its heavy pall of battle-smoke, and, singly or in groups 



"IT WAS A MAD-BRAINED TRICK." 619 

of two or three, they rejoin their unhorsed comrades who had 
been able to hobble to the starting-point. It is a sorry muster, 
and though a cheer goes up from the shattered group as some 
favorite officer or man comes forward to join them, all are sad 
and depressed. Cardigan orders them to " fall in," and directs 
the rolls to be called. " It was a mad-brained trick," he tells 
them ; " but it was no fault of mine," and one can hardly see 
how Cardigan could be blamed after his interview with Lord 
Lucan just before the charge. He was no more popular among 
his officers than was the division commander, yet they say of 
him that from the moment of his reception of the order until all 
were obscured in the smoke of the Cossack battery he was the 
foremost man, and that he superbly led the charge of the Light 
Brigade. 

It was said of Lord Cardigan, however, that he came back too 
soon. It seems that after riding through the guns he found him- 
self surrounded by a number of Russian lancers, had a sharp 
struggle to free himself, was slightly wounded, and when he 
managed to get clear of them he could see nothing of his men 
except those who were now slowly retreating up the valley. He 
rode back to the Heavy Brigade (which Lord Lucan had halted 
under the fire of the Causeway guns, after losing some valuable 
officers and men) and burst out in a tirade of abuse of Nolan. 
It was pithily observed by an officer of the guards that day that 
whoever might be the really responsible party for that terrible 
blunder, the blame would be thrown upon poor Nolan, for he 
was dead and defenceless. Dead ! yes, and for a long time well- 
nigh defenceless, for the all powerful arm of the English aris- 
tocracy was thrown around the reputations of Lucan and Car- 
digan, and they, though relieved from their commands and 
returned to England, had the press of the nation, the house of 
peers and the tongues of the nobility and gentry to ventilate 
their side of the story. "The king can do no wrong," say the 
royalists. "A peer of England cannot blunder," is the military 
maxim that for years has sent many a gallant soldier to certain 
and needless death, because titled incompetents had to be grati- 
fied with important commands. Lucan's lamentable failure in 



620 BALACLAVA. 

the Crimea, Lord Chelmsford's wholesale sacrifice of the Twenty- 
fourth regiment at Isandlhwana are part and parcel of the same 
false system of appointment — family connection — " influence" — 
taking the place of soldierly merit, and then when her sons are 
slaughtered and somebody must bear the brunt, loyal England 
rises to the vehement defence of these high-born blunderers and 
casts the blame upon her martyred dead. 

And so it was with Louis Nolan. Despite the opinion of the 
cavalry division, and the statements of its officers, the nation for 
some time was carefully taught to believe that he was responsi- 
ble for the mad charge. Lords Lucan and Cardigan were speedily 
back in London telling their side of the story, but the soldiers 
were kept far away in the Crimea until little by little the bitter- 
ness of feeling died away ; and then, link by link, slowly and 
carefully it was left to such a conscientious historian as Alex- 
ander Kinglake to elicit all the facts, to lay them before the 
world, and to exonerate the first and greatest victim of the 
Light cavalry charge. 

It had taken the "Heavies" just eight minutes to hack and 
hew the Russian cavalry to pieces. It took less than twenty 
minutes to destroy the Light Brigade. It rode in with 673 
horsemen. It came out with 195, and one regiment, the Thir- 
teenth Light Dragoons, could muster only ten men after the 
charge. The actual losses in killed and wounded were 247, 
officers and men ; but the number of horses killed and disabled 
was over 500, which accounts in a measure for the small force 
which the brigade was able to muster in saddle when reassem- 
bled in the north valley. 

The incidents of this wonderful exploit would fill a volume, 
but space forbids them here. Despite the terrible fire it had 
encountered, the Light Brigade had charged in front a powerful 
battery, and absolutely driven in disorder an army in position. 
Well might the admiring Frenchmen say of it : " It is magnificent; 
but it is not war." 




x ±j___^_ 




MALVERN HILL. 

1862 

BY JAMES H. WILLARD. 

HE bold dash of the Federal troops at Mechan- 
icsville, on May 23d, was followed by a 
general order which implied the immediate 
advance of the Army of the Potomac. " On 
to Richmond," was the cry in the ranks. " I 
will fight the enemy, whatever their force 
may be, with whatever force we may have," 
were the words of the Commander-in-Chief 
to the Secretary of War. But there was no 
vigor in McClellan's movements. Weary of this inaction, the 
patient President telegraphed : " I think the time is near when 
you must either attack Richmond, or give up the job and come 
to the defence of Washington." Keyes and Heintzelman's corps 
had crossed the Chickahominy, and were within six miles 
of Richmond ; others were waiting for the completion of 
bridges across the stream ; was the substance of McClellan's 
reply. 

Emory's fourteen mile mud march, his furious charge, and 
the subsequent battle at Hanover Court-House, where Porter 
reinforced the gallant Martindale, were magnified by McClellan 
into " a truly glorious victory," while at the same time, he was 
criticising the Government for its conduct of the war, and mak- 
ing his usual request for more troops. 

Then followed the battles of Seven Pines and Fair Oaks 
Station, and the month of " masterful inactivity " along the un- 
healthy line of the Chickahominy, a few miles from the Con- 
federate capital, Next, the dashing cavalry leader, General J. 

(623> 



624 MALVERN HILL. 

E. B. Stuart, swept entirely around the Army of the Potomac, 
capturing prisoners, horses and mules ; burning wagon trains 
and forage schooners, and retiring at his leisure to Richmond. 
Oak Grove, where Hooker's division suffered a severe loss in 
killed and wounded, followed Stuart's destructive raid. Then 
Lee's attack on McClellan's right at Mechanicsville, brought 
about the second engagement at that point — resulting in victory 
for the Union forces. 

Abandoning the plan of offering Lee a general battle on the 
Chickahominy, or of a concentrated attack on Richmond, 
which would have cut off Lee from his base of supplies and the 
25,000 defenders of that city, McClellan commenced a retreat 
toward the James River. But the battle of Gaines' Mills was 
to be fought; where Porter with 35,000 men against an enemy 
70,000 strong, long withstood the terrible blows of the Con- 
federate brigades. At fearful cost to both sides, the Confeder- 
ates won this bloody field. 

Then Lee, looking for McClellan at the " White House," 
found that position abandoned and in flames. The objective of 
the Federal commander was a point near the James River, 
where he could have the cooperation of Commodore Rodgers' 
gunboats. No sooner had McClellan left Savage's Station, than 
Lee was in full pursuit. By his instructions, Magruder struck 
the rear of the Union column, but retreated after a furious con- 
flict. 

Not without a struggle did McClellan find himself in posses- 
sion of Malvern Hill, on June 30th. Longstreet and A. P. Hill 
had been in direct pursuit ; Magruder and Huger, by another 
road had followed his retreating troops. Halted by the de- 
struction of a bridge, Jackson was held at bay through the 
afternoon and evening, but the Union forces retired from this 
position during the night. At the same time, Glendale or 
Nelson's Farm was the scene of severe fighting. At this point 
— the intersection of two roads, Longstreet met McCall's divi- 
sion and fell heavily upon it. The Confederates were driven 
back at first, then they rallied and in turn drove the Union forces 
into the woods. The slaughter on both sides was terrible, An 



McCLELLAN ON THE GALENA. 625 

Alabama regiment captured Cooper's battery, only to lose it 
again with its own regimental standard. Randall's battery was 
captured by a Virginia brigade ; Meade was severely wounded ; 
McCall was captured. The Confederates retired upon the ar- 
rival of fresh Union troops. 

During this desperately fought battle, McClellan, according to 
his own report, was on board of a gunboat in the James River, 
or at his quarters some two or three miles from the scene of 
combat. He knew nothing of the engagement until " very late 
at night," when his aids gave him "the results of the day's 
fighting along the whole line, and the true position of affairs." 
During the night, the Union forces were withdrawn from the 
battlefield, and with the remainder of the Army of the Potomac, 
took up a strong position on Malvern Hill, early on July ist. 

Not being satisfied with the natural defences of this place, 
McClellan selected Harrison's Landing, a few miles down the 
river, as the " final location of the army and its depots." While 
at this point, on the Galena, the battle of Malvern Hill was be- 
gun. According to an officer of the Galena, McClellan was " a 
little anxious " as the reports of the signal officer were given, 
but he did not leave the gunboat until a message from the shore 
demanded his immediate presence. It was then late in the 
afternoon. In the evening, McClellan returned to the Galena. 

Lee intended to carry Malvern Hill by storm, and his plan in- 
cluded an attack by Armitstead's brigade, followed by a general 
advance, for which the signal was to be a shout from Armit- 
stead's men as they threw themselves upon the enemy. It was 
between three and four o'clock in the afternoon, when Lee 
opened a heavy artillery fire upon Couch and Kearney, whose 
positions were in the order named, on the right of Porter, who 
held the left of the Union line. D. H. Hill advanced upon 
Couch, in the belief that he had heard the prearranged signal, 
only to find his troops unsupported, as by some miscarriage of 
orders, only a single battery had been ordered up. The Con- 
federates were beaten back in confusion, and the Union right 
bettered its position by an advance of several hundred yards. 

Porter received the attack of Magruder and Huger — a furious 



626 MALVERN HILL. 

onslaught. Through dense woods, Kershaw's and Semmes 
troops swept like a whirlwind, nearly to the muzzles of Porter's 
death-dealing guns. Wright, Malone and Anderson dashed 
against the Union line, more to the right ; Barksdale tried to 
break it near the centre. Repulsed at every point, a lull like 
that before a storm fell upon both armies. But not for long. 

D. H. Hill, in his report, described the Union position as 
" Tier after tier of batteries grimly visible on the plateau, rising 
in the form of an amphitheater, one flank of the Yankees pro- 
tected by Turkey Creek, and the other by gunboats." It was 
against these guns whose well-chosen positions were strength- 
ened by " slashings," that Lee, in the recklessness or despera- 
tion that characterized his conduct of the entire battle, hurled 
his columns for the second time. It was six o'clock in the 
evening when the reformed lines dashed from the pine forest, 
under cover of heavy artillery fire. At double-quick they swept 
across the open, only to be withered by a merciless fire of 
artillery and musketry. With criminal disregard of human life, 
brigade after brigade was sent into the maelstrom of death, only 
to meet the fate of its predecessor. An hour later, Sickles' and 
Meagher's brigades grappled the fresh troops under Jackson, 
who were bearing heavily upon Porter and Couch. The fight- 
ing was furious, frightful. Shot and shell from gunboats in the 
river tore great gaps in the assailing ranks. Turning in despair, 
the Confederates fled from the Golgotha of Malvern Hill, and 
sought shelter in the forests and ravines. 

The Union victory was decisive, but McClellan did not follow 
up the advantage he had gained. The greatest disorder pre- 
vailed in his army on the morning after the battle, according to 
the reports of his own officers. " Thousands of straggling men 
asking every passer-by for their regiment; ambulances, wagons, 
and artillery obstructed every road." The Confederate loss was 
never reported. McClellan reported his losses from the battle 
of Mechanicsville to the withdrawal of his army from Malvern 
Hill as, 1,582 killed, 7,709 wounded, and 5,958 missing, — an 
aggregate loss of 15,249. 

From Malvern Hill, the Army of the Potomac fell back to 



THE CAMPAIGN ENDED. 



627 



Harrison's Landing, in obedience to the orders of the Com- 
mander-in-Chief. The campaign against Richmond was ended, 
with the victorious army hardly more than a day's march from 
the enemy's capital city. 

Great dissatisfaction, and something like consternation spread 
throughout the army as the result of this remarkable order. 
Fitz-John Porter, a devoted adherent of McClellan, uttered an 
indignant protest. Kearney, in the presence of several officers, 
put himself on record as follows : " I, Philip Kearney, an old 
soldier, enter my solemn protest against this order for a retreat. 
We ought, instead of retreating, to follow up the enemy and 
take Richmond ; and in full view of all the responsibilities of 
such a declaration, I say to you all, such an order can only be 
prompted by cowardice or treason ! " 




NAT10 

.-OIIPEOEUATI 



BATTLEFIELD OF MALVERN HILL. 



MANASSAS, 




OR 

SECOND BULL RUN. 

1862. 

N telling of the battles of our own land there is 
little need for preliminaries. Thanks to our 
public school system, almost every boy or girl 
in America knows the history of the great war 
waged between the North and the seceding 
States of the South. The North fought to pre- 
serve the Union, the South for utter indepen- 
dence. The far-seeing statesmen of the Union 
knew well that, with the bond once broken, the 
nation as such would speedily fall to pieces. The political lead- 
ers of the South, who, for years, through the democratic party, 
had been accustomed to govern the entire country, found them- 
selves "out of power" by the election of Abraham Lincoln to 
the Presidency ; and, being determined either to rule or ruin, 
called upon their brave and devoted people to follow them, cut 
loose from the Union, and set up an administration of their own 
against the general government. The flag of the United States 
was shot down at Sumter, and the North sprang to arms to 
defend the capital city from the attack already menaced. The 
President called upon the militia, and Washington was saved. 
Then came the first attempt to chastise the South. Big Bethel 
and Bull Run were the consequences. The North woke up to 
a realization of the fact that the South could fight most gallantly 
and scientifically, and that not three months but three years, not 
seventy-five thousand but seven hundred and fifty thousand men, 

629 



630 MANASSAfi. 

would be needed to bring it to terms. A great army had to be 
raised, drilled and disciplined, and, as the only man who had 
met with any success, small or great, so far, George B. McClellan 
was put at the head of the raw organization ; the veteran Scott 
gracefully retired, and the hopes, prayers and the enthusiastic 
admiration of the nation centred in the young general, thus 
suddenly lifted to nearly supreme command. 

He had a colossal task before him. With all its patriotism, 
the North contained about as unmilitary a population as ever 
lived. The arts of peace and the pursuit of " the almighty dol- 
lar " had absorbed the entire attention of all but a very small 
portion of its law-abiding and pacific citizens. Not one man in 
fifty knew the use of rifle or pistol ; not one in a hundred could 
bestride a horse without making a guy of himself. Some few 
fine militia organizations existed in New York, Massachusetts 
and Pennsylvania, but, as a rule, military exercises were frowned 
upon by the press, military associations denounced by the pulpit, 
and military dress or bearing sneered at, if not insulted, by the 
public. The maxim of our great Washington, " In time of 
peace prepare for war," was utterly ignored. It sometimes 
happened that vacancies existed in the cadetships at the 
national military academy at West Point, for which no appli- 
cants would be found in the congressional districts of the 
North. Even the allurement of being fed, clothed, educated 
and paid by the general government was not sufficient to over- 
come, in many communities, the prejudice against the profession 
of arms. 

Not so in the South. From the days of the revolution its 
men were bred to a life in the saddle, and skilled in the use of 
fire-arms. The young man who was not a bold rider and a 
passable shot was looked upon almost as a milksop among his 
comrades. More than that, by sisters, sweethearts and wives. 
Contempt for danger and death was a part of the Southerner's 
creed. He was forced to assume it whether he felt it or not, 
and however harmful, pernicious and lawless may have been the 
system, the "code," as it was called, that made men answerable 
to an opponent's pistol for any offence from direct insult to 



MILITARY SPIRIT IN THE SOUTH. 631 

trivial discourtesy, had the effect of teaching the South the use 
of arms, and made ready soldiers of its people. 

The war with Mexico, an unpopular contest in the minds of 
Northerners, created a whirlwind of enthusiasm throughout the 
South. From that time every Southern family of prominence 
was represented in the army. The best names, the best blood, 
the best intellects in the South, were found in the military ser- 
vice of the nation. Successive Presidents sought among South- 
ern politicians for their secretaries of war, and such men as 
Conrad, Jefferson Davis and John B. Floyd eagerly seized every 
opportunity to fill the vacancies that went a begging in the 
North, with importations from the South. The army was con- 
trolled, led, influenced and taught by Southerners; West Point 
was imbued with the doctrine of States' rights, and the battalion 
of cadets was virtually commanded by Southern officers. The 
Northern States had one military school worthy of mention as 
such, outside of West Point. The South was full of them. The 
North had only three or four military organizations to which a 
gentleman could belong without losing caste in society. The 
South was full of companies, battalions or batteries which its 
people gloried in. Southern graduates of West Point stuck to 
the army and made it their home. Northern graduates in great 
numbers resigned and went into civil life. Northern cadets who 
failed to pass their examinations, and were returned to their 
homes, went back as a rule disgusted with their ill-success, and 
,strove to conceal the fact that they had ever been at West Point. 
Southern boys in a like predicament went home and put what 
they had learned to some account in their local militia. Between 
the Mexican war and 1861 there were two hundred and forty^ 
four appointees from slave States who failed to be graduated ; 
there were dozens more who, though appointed "At Large,'* 
hailed from the South, and so in addition to the large number 
of Southern officers who were commissioned as graduates of the 
academy, the South was full of admirably instructed young 
company and battery commanders when our great war broke out. 

As an instance of this we cite the distinguished Virginia 
family of Taliaferro. Six of its men between the years 18.15 



632 MANASSAS. 

and 1859 entered West Point, none succeeded in getting 
through, yet some of those Taliaferros were admirable soldiers, 
and one of them a division commander under Stonewall Jack- 
son. Other distinguished Southern names there were that ap- 
peared for a time upon the rolls at the Military Academy, 
and, afterwards, shone brilliantly on Southern battle-fields — 
Armisteads, Andersons, Gordons, Locketts, Rossers, Coopers, 
Garnetts, Wilcox, Robertson (of Texas) and dozens more. From 
first to last, the South never lacked for accomplished officers, 
and, at the start, we of the North were hard pushed to find 
soldiers of any kind. In this emergency the government re- 
ceived with open arms large numbers of soldiers of fortune 
from across the sea — men who had no earthly interest in our 
mortal struggle, and only came to us attracted by liberal pay 
and the easily obtained command of regiments, even of brigades. 
For the first year of the war, while our serious, plodding and 
hard-studying volunteer officers were learning their duties, these 
brilliantly uniformed and heavy moustachioed foreigners swag- 
gered about the streets of New York, Philadelphia and Wash- 
ington, lionized and feted by scores and hundreds ; but by the 
second year they were seen only occasionally in the camps and 
field; many of them drifted into the Eleventh corps and ran like 
sheep before " Stonewall " Jackson's men at Chancellorsville and 
Gettysburg, and by the third year of the war most of their 
names had dropped from the muster-rolls, and few had attained 
honorable distinction. The war was fought out by Americans, 
as a rule, " native and to the manner born." 

The Southern forces completely whipped the undisciplined 
militia of the North at Bull Run in July, 1861. Then McClellan 
proceeded to organize the Army of the Potomac, and after 
eight months of incessant drill and preparation, led it to the 
peninsula between the York and the James rivers, fought his 
way slowly up towards Richmond, gaining some slight successes, 
but, being badly worsted along the Chickahominy, was compelled 
to " change his base " to the James river. He made a superb 
fight at Malvern Hill, and, had he followed up the advantage 
there gained, his victorious troops might have marched into 



GENERALS HALLECK AND POPE LOOM UP. 633 

Richmond ; but McClellan was over-cautious. He had not 
thorough confidence in all his corps commanders, nor had all 
of them thorough confidence in him. He had organized and 
built up this admirable army from a chaos of raw regiments, 
but he failed to handle it to the best advantage. Southern gen- 
erals spoke of McClellan as a " book-soldier," whose every move 
they could anticipate, and in the North, thanks to the fears of the 
administration for the safety of the capital, he had been greatly 
hampered by conflicting orders, and compelled to take the field, 
leaving behind him some 40,000 men upon whose services he 
had counted. 

And now after Malvern he clamored for reinforcements to aid 
him in a projected onward move; but he had not the confidence 
of the President and Cabinet, and though he had with him 
nearly ninety thousand men and was eager to resume operations, 
the answer was an order to abandon the peninsula and bring his 
army back to Acquia Creek on the Potomac. We had then 
been fighting nearly a year, and the South had had by far the 
best of it. 

Before issuing the order recalling McClellan from the penin- 
sula a new army, composed of the ■ fine corps of McDowell, 
and the troops hitherto serving under Banks and Fremont in 
Northern and Western Virginia, had been organized in front of 
Washington. It was called " The Army of Virginia," and its 
first duty was to be the defence of the national capital. About 
the same time the President, in his grievous perplexity and dis- 
tress of mind, summoned from the West two generals who had 
been prominently and successfully before the public during the 
first year of the war in their campaigns along the Mississippi. 
These officers were Henry W. Halleck, who was called to 
Washington to be general-in-chief, and John Pope, who was as- 
signed to the new command, the Army of Virginia. Any lin- 
gering vestige of cordiality between the Cabinet and General 
McClellan was destroyed from this moment, and the army 
itself became divided in sentiment — many officers and men 
enthusiastically calling themselves champions of the cause of 
their still popular young general; others preferring to stand by 



634 MANASSAS. 

the actions of the general government, right or wrong. General 
Halleck never succeeded in getting on smoothly with any of the 
commanders of the Army of the Potomac, and General Pope's 
very first move was one that called down upon him the animosity 
of General McClellan's adherents. He issued a " pronuncia- 
mento " to his new command, making comparisons that were 
emphatically odious between the methods of the Eastern army 
and those of the Western men with whom he had been asso- 
ciated. It was a most unfortunate start. 

However, General Pope had nearly 50,000 men, and with 
them he moved forward along the line of the Orange and Alex- 
andria railway towards Gordonsville, and General Lee, feeling 
assured that McClellan had no more desire for fight at that mo- 
ment, sent " Stonewall " Jackson, his great lieutenant, with two fine 
divisions, to go up and see what he could do with Pope. Early 
in August he further reinforced Jackson, who on the 7th and 8th 
of that month crossed the Rapidan with his own division and 
those of Ewell and A. P. Hill. On the 9th Jackson's command 
encountered the corps of General Banks at Cedar Mountain, 
and a spirited battle took place in which the untried troops of 
Banks behaved admirably against the veterans of the South, but 
General Halleck at Washington was greatly alarmed for the 
safety of the capital, and then it was that the Army of the 
Potomac was hurried back from the peninsula to the support of 
Pope. The moment McClellan fell back from Harrison's Land- 
ing on the James, General Lee with his whole available com- 
mand, except the garrison of Richmond, marched northward in 
all haste. His plan was to fall upon and crush Pope out of 
existence before McClellan's men, moving round by water from 
Fortress Monroe, could reach and relieve him. 

On the 15th of August Longstreet's and Hood's divisions 
reached Gordonsville with Stuart's cavalry. On the 20th Jack- 
son and Longstreet crossed the Rapidan, and Pope fell back be- 
hind the Rappahannock, holding the fords in strong force, and 
now the two armies, Lee's veterans and Pope's almost untried 
troops, stood facing each other along that storied stream. The 
Southern general learned that reinforcements from McClellan's 



STUART IN POPE'S REAR. 635 

army were already in march to join Pope, and that Reno's divi- 
sion of Burnside's corps (just returned from the expedition to 
the North Carolina coast) had already arrived from Acquia 
creek. No time was to be lost. He had not more than 70,000 
men with him, and Pope might soon have twice that number. 
General Lee ordered up from Richmond the divisions of McLaws 
and D. H. Hill, and Wade Hampton's cavalry, and at once set 
about the task of giving Pope a beating before his supports could 
arrive. 

The Northern army, on the 20th of August, occupied the north 
bank of the Rappahannock from Kelly's ford to a point some 
three or four miles above the railway bridge. On the 21st Lee 
appeared in force along the south bank, and all that day and the 
next the batteries of the opposing armies hammered away at one 
another without much effect. The Southern generals found 
every ford strongly guarded and were unable to force a passage. 
Then that irrepressible Stonewall Jackson obtained the consent 
of his chief, moved farther " up stream," crossed Early's brigade 
at Sulphur Springs above Pope's army, and would probably 
have essayed his favorite manoeuvre of attacking our flank had 
not a violent storm set in. The torrents of rain that fell con^ 
verted the placid Rappahannock into a raging flood. Jackson 
could not get across to support Early, and Early was in desperate 
danger of capture or destruction ; but his energetic officers, 
patched up a ricketty bridge, and the brigade got back to thq 
lower bank in safety. Meantime the daring cavalry leader, 
Stuart, with only a few hundred troopers, had crossed the Rappa-. 
hannock at Waterloo bridge, swept round the rear of Pope's 
army, struck the railway at Catlett's Station, captured all the 
headquarters' papers and baggage, three hundred prisoners and 
a quantity of provisions, set fire to the station, and trotted gayly 
off in the darkness, laughing at the consternation his dash had 
created in the camps of the headquarters and convoy guards. 
Luckily for " the Army of Virginia " the night was so very dark 
that Stuart failed to see that an immense train of supplies and 
provisions was parked near the station. He rode away without 
burning either that or the railway bridge, as he might easily 
have done. 40 



6'3t> MANASSAS. 

And now, after the storm, General Pope extended his lines to 
the west, sending the corps of Sigel and Banks up to Sulphur 
Springs, where Early had crossed and recrossed. On the other 
side Longstreet's command covered the whole front recently 
occupied by his and Jackson's combined ; and, on the 25th of 
August, with the entire consent of General Lee, Stonewall Jack- 
son set forth on an expedition that was daring to the verge of 
insanity ; a piece of recklessness that nothing but absolute con- 
tempt for his adversary could justify, and that nothing but the 
greatest good luck could withhold from dire disaster. For four 
days Pope with 50,000 men, obedient to the vehement orders of 
Halleck to " fight like the devil," and hold the line of the Rappa- 
hannock, had been foiling Lee's direct attempts to cross with 
70,000. Time was precious, and Jackson, who knew every bridle 
or wood-path in the country, urged a bold move. The map will 
show the whole scheme. Pope's supplies and reinforcements 
could reach him only by the line of the Orange and Alexandria 
railway, and the broad turnpike from Alexandria to Warrenton. 
The former passes through Manassas Junction south of the old 
Bull Run battle-field of the previous year; the latter goes right 
through it, crossing Bull Run on the stone bridge which be- 
came famous that hot July Sunday. Warrenton is a pretty 
country town lying among the bold hills that form the southern 
end of the low, wooded range known as Bull Run mountains. 
Beginning here near Warrenton this range runs nearly due north 
to the Potomac near Leesburg, and it is crossed or penetrated by 
only three roads of any account — one near Leesburg, one at 
Aldie from Fairfax, and south of these by the Manassas Gap 
railway and the parallel well-travelled road at Thoroughfare 
Gap, a crooked and easily defensible pass that lies about 
five miles west of Gainesville, where the railway, the War- 
renton pike and the Gap road all meet. About fifteen miles 
south of east of Gainesville lies Manassas Junction, where the 
railways unite, and where immense stores of rations, clothing and 
ammunition were deposited. Jackson's plan was to make a 
forced march up the valley west of the Bull Run mountains, to 
push through Thoroughfare Gap, swoop down on Manassas 



STONEWALL JACKSON'S AUDACIOUS MOVE. 637 

Junction and destroy everything there before Pope' could get 
back from the Rappahannock, or the Army of the Potomac get 
forward from Alexandria, to defend it. By letting him go and 
thus dividing his army in two widely separated commands or 
wings, General Lee took the grave risk of having either half 
attacked by overwhelming numbers and of being "beaten in 
detail ; " but such was his confidence in Jackson's luck and 
ability that he took the risk without apparent hesitation. It was 
the most audacious thing even Jackson had yet attempted. 

Early on the morning of August 25th, with three veteran 
divisions, his own old division now led by Taliaferro, and those 
of Ewell and A. P. Hill, Jackson crossed the Rappahannock at 
Hinson's ford beyond Pope's outposts on the upper stream, 
reached the town of Orleans and then pushed boldly northward 
through the fertile valley. Stuart with his daring troopers rode 
well out on his right at the base of the hills so as to prevent 
Pope's cavalry from peering into his movements ; and so through 
the long August day in disciplined silence the sinewy footmen 
trudged along behind their trusted leader. He had forbidden 
all cheering, all noise of any kind. He led them through forest 
aisles and by short cuts across the fields, raising as little dust as 
possible. The guns came "clinking" along behind with that 
jingling rumble that all old artillerymen know so well. The 
wagons with their scanty rations were left far in rear, and the 
men had only a little hard tack in their lean haversacks, or 
munched the handfuls of parched corn given them by sympathiz- 
ing friends among the farms through which they passed ; but 
every now and then Jackson would rein in his raw-boned horse 
and take a look at them from under the shabby yellow-gray for- 
age cap he wore, pulled down over his keen eyes, and then they 
would tramp by him, waving their battered old felt hats until 
some irrepressible spirit would start a yell of delight, when the 
whole column would break into a chorus that old Stonewall 
had hard work stopping. Ragged, barefooted, hungry as they 
were, those magnificent fellows marched thirty-five miles that 
day, and never halted until they reached the Manassas Gap rail- 
way at Salem just before sunset. There they bivouacked for the 



638 MANASSAS. 

night ; rose before the sun on the 26th, pushed eastward through 
Thoroughfare Gap all unopposed, reached Gainesville on the 
Warrenton pike, and then, obedient to his orders to " break up 
his (Pope's) railroad communications with the Federal capital," 
Jackson swooped down on Bristoe Station just at sunset, while 
Stuart galloped into Manassas Junction, took several hundred 
prisoners and eight guns, and made himself master of the vast 
supply of commissary and quartermaster's stores. It was the 
" biggest haul " made during the war, a God-send to the hungry 
and tattered soldiers; and one can readily imagine the merry 
night Stuart's men had in " fitting out " and feasting at the 
expense of Uncle Sam. 

Jackson destroyed Bristoe and the railway near it ; then, leav- 
ing Ewell as rear-guard, moved seven miles up the road to 
Manassas Junction, where he and the divisions with him pro- 
ceeded to help themselves to the provisions, new shoes, socks 
and underclothing so lavishly supplied them. In many cases, 
too, ragged gray uniforms were replaced by the spotless blue of 
the Union. The dust would soon make it as dingy as the old 
garb, so what was the difference? Ewell held his post at Bristoe 
until late in the afternoon of the 27th, when he was attacked by 
superior force and driven in ; then he too backed up to Manassas 
and joined the main body. 

Meantime what had Pope been doing ? 

Jackson was well across the Rappahannock and west of 
Warrenton when tidings of his astonishing move were brought 
to the Northern general. In all probability the latter could not 
believe that even Jackson would dare separate himself by such 
a distance from the main army, and so, up to nightfall on the 
25th, half expected one of his impetuous attacks on the right 
flank. Reno and Sigel, who were at Sulphur Springs and Wa- 
terloo Bridge, were held in readiness to move wherever he might 
show his skirmish line, and McDowell's corps, composed of the 
strong divisions of King and Ricketts, moved up between War- 
renton and Sulphur Springs. To McDowell's command was 
here added a little division of 2,800 men, the remnants of 
McCall's Pennsylvania Reserves that so recently had been 



POPE'S GREAT OPPORTUNITY^' ^ 639 

severely handled on the peninsula, and John F. Reynolds had 
succeeded to the command of what was left of the division. But 
the 25th passed without attack from the west, though Longstreet 
kept everybody busy along the Rappahannock, and not until 
well along on the 26th did General Pope begin to realize what 
Jackson was driving at. It was with absolute delight he learned 
that the rash Virginian with not more than 30,000 men was 
between him and Washington, an easy prey to the overwhelming 
force he could throw upon him, for that very day the strong 
corps of Fitz John Porter and Heintzelman had arrived from the 
Army of the Potomac, and he knew that the rest of that army, 
the corps of Sumner and Franklin, were, or ought to be, in 
march from Alexandria to join him. 

On the night of the 26th he learned that Jackson and Stuart 
were on the railway behind him, and, facing about with a large 
portion of his command, he started early on the morning of the 
27th to surround and capture them. Leaving Generals Banks 
and Porter to look after Longstreet should he cross the Rappa- 
hannock in pursuit, Pope turned his back on General Lee and 
hurried northward, expecting very justly to " bag the whole 
crowd." Never had Northern commander such a chance before. 
McDowell was charged with the duty of heading Jackson off on 
the west and preventing his getting back through the gap. To 
this end, he with his own divisions, Sigel's corps and Reynolds' 
little command were ordered to hasten to Gainesville. Reno and 
! Kearney with their divisions were to march "cross country," 
through Greenwich, ready to support either McDowell on the 
pike or Pope on the railway, which ever should first meet Jack- 
son ; and Pope himself with Hooker's division marched up the 
railway, leaving Porter at Warrenton Junction. The only way 
left for Jackson to get out of the scrape, apparently, was to push 
southeastward from Manassas Junction through a tangled and 
almost roadless country where his trains could not have followed 
him; but Jackson was taking things very coolly, as we have 
seen, and was in no way hurried. Not until late on the after- 
noon of the 27th did any engagement occur between his people 
and their pursuers. Then Ewell's men at Kettle Run were 



640 MANASSAS. 

fiercely attacked by Hooker and driven up the road. That 
night, Jackson's entire force was with him at Manassas, while 
Stuart's troopers, thrown out in every direction, covered him 
like an impenetrable veil. At Washington all was consterna- 
tion. Not a word could be heard from Pope. All wires were 
cut, all roads destroyed, all couriers captured by the active 
horsemen. General Halleck and the cabinet were ready to be- 
lieve that Lee's whole army was advancing upon them and thai 
Pope was nowhere. 

But Jackson well knew he could not stay at Manassas. Dark 
as was the night of the 27th, after burning and destroying every- 
thing he could not use or take with him, he again called on his 
men and slipped out northward toward Sudley Springs, sending 
A. P. Hill off to the northeast and way around by Centreville. 
Pope felt sure he would attempt to get away towards the south 
and east, and so sent orders calling in Reno and Kearney to the 
railroad, and directing McDowell's command (which was biv- 
ouacked for the night of the 27th on the turnpike southwest of 
Gainesville) to march at early dawn along the Manassas Gap 
railway to the junction. This was all very well if Jackson would 
be idiot enough to stay there, or to attempt to cut through the 
woods to the lower Rappahannock, but Jackson meant to do 
neither. He knew well that Lee and Longstreet would follow 
on his trail to Thoroughfare Gap the moment Pope fell back 
from the river, and all he wanted was clear ground between him 
and Bull Run mountains, to enable him to make a junction with 
his friends the moment they should appear. If cut off from 
Thoroughfare, he could fall back to the northwest towards the 
upper gap at Aldie. 

Early on the morning of the 28th of August, Jackson with 
Ewell and Taliaferro crossed the Warrenton turnpike near Bull 
Run and kept on towards Sudley Springs. A. P. Hill as rear- 
guard was still hanging about the smouldering ruins of the 
trains at Manassas Junction. By eight o'clock Reno and Kear- 
ney had joined Hooker at Bristoe, and with these three divisions 
Pope made the seven mile march to the Junction, only to find 
that Jackson had given him the slip after doing incalculable 



JACKSON CROUCHING IN HIS LAIR. 641 

damage. Buford with his cavalry had already been sent off 
towards Thoroughfare Gap to hold it, if possible, should Lee 
and Longstreet come that way, and Pope did not really know 
which way Jackson had gone when word was brought in that 
his rear guard was even then crossing Blackburn's ford on Bull 
Run, and moving towards Centreville. Instantly the Union 
general had to change all his plans. Kearney and Reno were 
hurried off in pursuit. Porter, who had finally worked up to 
Bristoe, was ordered up to Manassas Junction, and McDowell, 
who had already passed through Gainesville, and was approach- 
ing Manassas Junction from that point, was ordered to turn 
back, regain the Warrenton pike, and march on Centreville. It 
took hours to get things straightened out to meet the new situa- 
tion. 

Meantime, Jackson's craft had succeeded admirably. He had 
moved quietly into a very strong position north of the turnpike 
along the embankment of an unfinished railway that extended 
from Sudley Springs to Gainesville; and here, while Stuart 
vigilantly watched everything off to the west — Jackson's right 
flank — he and his men, hidden in the leafy woods, rested quietly 
through the long summer day, while Hill led Kearney and Reno 
a veritable " wild goose chase " way up to Centreville. During 
the morning and afternoon the corps of Sigel and the little divi- 
sion of Pennsylvanians under Reynolds came trudging rather 
wearily through the fields from the southwest. Some shots 
were exchanged between the flankers and skirmishers, and the 
Union generals led their commands off into the woods along 
the Sudley Springs road-way, south of the pike, and waited for 
orders or instructions. They certainly had- not expected to find 
Jackson there. About this time, too, came A. P. Hill from 
Centreville, " doubling on his tracks," and successfully eluding 
Kearney, who could even now be heard five miles away to the 
eastward volleying at the rear guard regiments of Hill's com- 
mand. Far off to the distant west, too, where the low blue line 
of the Bull Run Mountains spanned the horizon, the boom, 
boom of cannon told Jackson that Lee and Longstreet were 
fighting their way through the Gap, and unless strenuously op- 



642 MANASSAS. 

posed, would be with him on the morrow. Evidently they were 
not opposed in force, since at least 13,000 Union troops had 
already marched eastward below Groveton, and Stuart was able to 
report that Buford's cavalry was falling back before Longstreet, 
who had even sent a force through Hopewell Gap, a rugged 
pass three miles higher up the range, and had turned the flank 
of Ricketts' division sent thither to help Buford ; and Ricketts, 
too, was falling back towards Gainesville. No wonder old 
Stonewall was in the best possible spirits. He had outwitted 
his antagonists, and he and his men were serenely sure of hold- 
ing their ground until reinforced. 

But was that all ? The day had passed without a fight so far 
as he was concerned, and his men, now refreshed, clothed and 
fed, were eager for a brush of some kind, and it was barely half- 
past five. Suddenly there came from down the road a burst of 
martial music, and a mile or so to the west there issued from 
the wood-roads leading to the Junction a solid, compact column 
of blue-clad infantry. Regiment after regiment filed out upon 
the pike, and, to the stirring marches of their bands, moved 
jauntily forward until finally four strong brigades were in sight, 
the leading one by this time directly opposite Ewell's position. 
It was King's division of McDowell's corps, ignorant of the 
proximity of either friend or foe, marching towards Centreville 
in compliance with the new orders. The sight was too much 
for Jackson and his men. Three light batteries hastily " hitched 
in," the first one ready, trotted out upon the slopes to the south, 
whirled around " in battery," and in another minute was thun- 
dering its salute at the waving colors of the blue column. 

Somewhere about three o'clock that afternoon General Mc- 
Dowell, riding with General King through the woods down by 
Bethlehem Church, was met by Pope's order to turn back and 
make for Centreville as soon as he could regain the pike. Sigel 
and Reynolds were already somewhere off to the east near Bull 
Run, and King's men, resting meantime in the woods, were 
countermarched as soon as the way was clear. McDowell him- 
self was puzzled by the conflicting orders. He had taken the 
responsibility of detaching Ricketts and sending him back towards 



EWELL POUNCES ON GIBBON. 643 

Thoroughfare Gap from Gainesville, and now he decided to go 
and find General Pope, " with the best intentions in the world " 
of informing him as to the neighborhood, with which he thought 
himself familiar after his experience of the previous year ; but 
it may be said right here that McDowell not only did not find 
General Pope that afternoon or until the following day, but that 
he could not himself be found when greatly needed. 

Obedient to his orders General King had moved out on the 
pike towards five p. m. All was clear, the bands soon ceased 
their music, and the men trudged along at route step; the leading 
brigade (Hatch's) well ahead, passed over the Groveton ridge, 
and the next brigade came marching out from the shelter of 
some thick woods north of the pike. At its head rode General 
John Gibbon, recently commander of the fine battery of the 
Fourth (regular) artillery that accompanied the brigade. Three 
regiments of his command were from Wisconsin, one from 
Indiana. It was the only exclusively " far-western " brigade in 
the army then serving in Virginia, and it was a superb one. 
The instant its column was well out opposite the open slopes to 
the north, there came the sudden salute of Jackson's battery. 
"Halt!" rang along the ranks, and in another instant with 
cracking whips and charging steeds battery " B " came tearing 
up the road at full gallop. Gibbon himself placed it in position, 
opened rapid fire on the opposing guns ; then, calling to the 
Second Wisconsin to follow him, he plunged into the woods to 
his left front and rode forward intent on the capture of the 
Southern battery. Just beyond the skirt of woods the regiment, 
deploying, ran upon a skirmish line of infantry lying in the tall 
grass. Sharp musketry fire began at once ; the rest of the brigade 
was ordered forward and soon formed line on the Second Wis- 
consin, and then, to their utter amaze, there came sweeping over 
the low slopes before them six splendid brigades of infantry — 
Taliaferro's whole division and two brigades of Ewell's. Jack- 
son meant to have one rattling fight then before the sun went 
down. 

Well — he had it. It was the first time that western brigade 
had been engaged, but it won a name that night never forgotten 



644 MANASSAS. 

to this day. For one mortal hour it held its ground against 
those six brigades of Jackson's with what he termed " obstinate 
determination," though losing forty per cent, of its officers and 
men, and being eventually supported only by Doubleday's little 
brigade, which also suffered severely. Hatch and Patrick, com- 
manding the head and rear of King's column, did not get into 
action, for darkness put an end to the bloody combat by the 
time they reached the spot. Not one inch of ground had King's 
men yielded, and for once at least Jackson's celebrated division 
had met its match. Ewell lost a leg, Taliaferro was severely 
wounded, and a large number of field-officers of the Southern 
side had been killed. Far better would it have been for Jackson 
had he allowed that particular division to pursue its march un- 
molested. Yet the western brigade that had so heroically 
borne the whole brunt of the battle was fearfully cut up. Most 
of its field-officers were killed or wounded, and the ground was 
strewn with dead and dying. 

But they had found Jackson. The prisoners who were 
brought before General King stoutly affirmed that old Stone- 
wall was right there with from 40,000 to 60,000 men, and King, 
not knowing that Sigel's corps was only a few miles away, sent a 
note to Ricketts urging him to come to his support and that he 
would hold the ground until then. Staff-officers were sent to 
report the situation to Pope and McDowell, but neither Pope 
nor McDowell could be found in the darkness of the night, and, 
though they heard the firing and knew well that it must be 
King's division engaged with Jackson, they probably thought 
that Sigel and Reynolds were supporting him and sent no 
orders. Believing that Jackson was attempting to retreat to- 
wards Thoroughfare, and that Sigel, King and Reynolds with 
20,000 men were blocking the way, all their energies were 
centred on getting up troops to attack him in rear with the com- 
ing of day. But Jackson had not a thought of going. Secure 
in his position, and knowing that two of Longstreet's divisions 
were through the gap, he was only waiting until daybreak to 
pounce upon that isolated division of King that had given him 
so hard a tussle at sunset, and completely demolish it before 
supports could arrive. 



BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT OF POPE. 645 

King's brigade commanders had assembled after nine o'clock 
to talk over the situation with him, and this view of the case was 
strongly represented. He could not order Ricketts to abandon 
the work of detaining Longstreet and come to his assistance. 
No one was there who could give such orders. General Rey- 
nolds had ridden over through the woods and assured King that 
he was off there on his right, and all who knew Reynolds knew 
that as early as possible he would come ; but he was two miles 
off with only 2,800 men, and Jackson was already there with 
28,000. Prisoners said twice 28,000. The peril of the situation 
was evident to all. They could not stay where they were with- 
out every prospect of being annihilated at dawn ; so, urged by 
his brigade commanders, General King most reluctantly gave 
the order to fall back across the pike, and at one o'clock in the 
morning through the wooded roads, in the dense darkness, he 
and his wearied division groped their way off to the right in 
search of Manassas Junction and supports. Ricketts had halted 
at Gainesville for the night ; but on learning after midnight by a 
letter from General King of the move of that division, he roused 
his men and took the first road to the railway. It landed 
him at Bristoe Station early in the morning of the 29th, 
about the time that King and Porter met face to face at the 
Junction. 

And so the road from Thoroughfare Gap to Jackson was left 
open. Longstreet pushed ahead, and by noon on the 29th his 
leading troops were deploying, facing east across the Warrenton 
pike, and Stonewall Jackson was safely out of the tightest place 
in which he had ever marched his willing command. 

Bitterly disappointed as was General Pope, he was hopeful 
and energetic as ever. He came at all speed back from Centre - 
ville to the west bank of Bull Run, ignorant of the coming of 
Longstreet, and bent on crushing Jackson as the latter retreated. 
McDowell, who had bivouacked somewhere in the woods over 
night, unable to find his way in any direction, was again in 
saddle. Porter's fine corps had come up from Bristoe and was 
extended in long column on the road from the Junction out 
towards Gainesville, its leading regiment having deployed as 



646 MANASSAS. 

skirmishers across the little stream known as Dawkin's branch. 
King's wearied division, now only about 5,000 strong, was rest- 
ing by the roadside. Reynolds had early pushed out his 
skirmishers, and " felt " those of Jackson along the pike. Sigel 
during the morning made an unsuccessful attack and had kept 
up a scattering fire at the advance troops of Jackson's lines, but 
everything was uncertainty and confusion on the Union side, 
while with the army of Lee matters seemed to be going like 
clock-work. Longstreet and Lee had reached the field of battle ; 
the lines of the former's troops were actually deployed and ready 
to fight soon after noon on that much-disputed day, and General 
Pope fondly cherished the belief that only Jackson was in his 
front. 

Early in the afternoon, however, he was ready to resume the 
attack. Kearney, Reno and Sigel, facing west, were to assault 
from Sudley Springs on the north along Jackson's front. King's 
and Ricketts' divisions were ordered to move up towards the 
pike by the Sudley Springs road ; and it was General Pope's 
plan that Porter's whole corps, facing northwest, should fall 
upon the right flank of the enemy, while he with all his force 
made a grand attack from the east. If it could have been 
promptly executed there would have been fair probability of a 
crowning success ; but just at the time it was desired that Porter 
should deploy his column, taking King's division with him, 
McDowell, his senior in rank, rode upon the field and gave con- 
flicting instructions — the nature of which has been a matter of 
dispute ever since. 

Then McDowell proceeded to take King's division away on a 
long march through the wood-roads to the right. Pope waited 
eagerly for the sound of Porter's guns before ordering his ready 
men to leap into the assault. Three o'clock, four o'clock came 
and went ; nothing had been done. All ignorant of the misun- 
derstanding between Porter and McDowell, Pope believed that 
Porter was failing him at this most critical juncture, and Porter, 
who certainly could have done something better than remain 
absolutely inactive an entire afternoon, was " waiting further in- 
structions." He had been told that he should have King's divi- 



A DAY OF WRETCHED MISUNDERSTANDINGS. 647 

sion to support him in his attack, and, as McDowell had stepped 
in and taken King away, he did not seem to see fit to exert him- 
self. 

Exasperated at this delay and inaction Pope at 4.30 p. m. sent 
a peremptory order to Porter to attack at once in force ; but it 
was a long way round, the order did not reach him until about 
six o'clock; and Porter, arguing that it would soon be too dark, 
and that Pope could not have known of Longstreet's presence 
when he wrote the order, decided not to obey. Consequently, 
when Pope's men advanced to the attack along the Bull Run 
lines, they were met by an unembarrassed and admirably posted 
enemy, mowed down by a withering fire, and the final charge, 
" a furious attack by King's division down the turnpike," was met 
and foiled by Hood's Texans of Longstreet's corps, whom it was 
hoped, Porter would have kept busy elsewhere. It was a day of 
wretched misunderstandings and balks of every kind; and at 
nightfall the Northern army was tired, hungry and footsore, ex- 
cept Porter's command, which had done practically nothing. 
No rations were to be had west of Bull Run, and things looked 
very forlorn for the morrow. 

Nevertheless, General Pope was full of pluck, hope and spirit. 
He confidently believed that Jackson was bound to retreat ; he 
honestly thought he could crush him before reinforcements 
could reach him, and he issued orders that McDowell should 
conduct the pursuit and give chase on the 30th, and Jackson had 
• not budged an inch and did not mean to. Porter was ordered 
to bring his corps up to the pike and report in pers.on the first 
thing in the morning, and at daybreak on the 30th of August 
the battle broke out with renewed fury. 

Already Pope had lost from six to eight thousand men, and 
" straggling " had become so universal that his regiments were 
as greatly reduced in this way, as they were by battle, hunger 
and fatigue. He had gained absolutely nothing on the 29th. 
He knew now that Longstreet was there before his left in full 
force, and that Lee in person was directing movements on the 
Southern side. The obvious thing for the Union general to do 
was to fall back to the heights of Centreville, five miles away, 



648 MANASSAS. 

and there obtain provisions and make firm stand until reinforced 
by the corps of Franklin and Sumner, but the prisoners brought 
in from the skirmish lines before dawn said that " Jackson was 
retiring to unite with Longstreet " (very possibly they had been 
sent forward purposely to be taken and to tell that story), and 
to give color to it Jackson drew back some of Hill's men so as 
to make the embankment look abandoned in front of Hooker 
and Kearney. The wool was successfully pulled over Pope's 
eyes. He flashed off a message to Washington that the enemy 
was retreating to the mountains, and then ordered Porter's corps 
to rush in to the pursuit. 

But he had been obliged to spend the whole morning in re- 
arranging his lines. Hooker and Kearney were still on the 
extreme right near Sudley Springs ; Reno and Sigel opposite 
Jackson's centre ; King's reduced division next to Sigel ; then 
came Porter's corps (minus Griffin's brigade, which had unac- 
countably marched off to Centreville all by itself). Ricketts' 
division was supporting the commands of Hooker, Kearney and 
Reno, all north of the Warrenton pike, and nothing was left to 
hold the commanding hills south of that broad thoroughfare but 
the little division of John F. Reynolds, composed of the three at- 
tenuated brigades of Meade, Seymour and Jackson, no one of 
them as strong numerically as a good-sized regiment. Confident 
that all he had to do was to mass his whole force on what remained 
of " Stonewall " Jackson and make one grand assault, Pope 
gave no thought to the left of his line, and Lee and Longstreet, 
discovering this, sent the divisions of Jones, Kemper and Wilcox 
to feel their way eastward through the thick woods towards 
those rugged heights south of the pike. If they could be gained 
the whole position of Pope's army would not only be turned and 
enfiladed, but his line of retreat across the stone bridge might 
be commanded. His plight would then indeed be desperate. 
At the same time Hood's division moved stealthily forward 
among the trees close to the pike, and Colonel S. D. Lee ran 
his light batteries forward and planted them on a rising ground 
near Groveton, from which point he could sweep the open fields 
in front of Jackson's line, and so it happened that while Pope 



M'DOWELL ORDERS PORTER TO ATTACK. 649 

was concentrating all his strength to hurl upon Lee's strongly 
posted and defended left, Lee was crouching for a spring on 
Pope's left which was not defended at all. 

Noon has come and gone, the sun is hot, the dust stifling, 
and in their grimy flannel blouses the soldiers of the Union 
army are lying along the wood-roads seeking shelter from the 
burning rays or from the occasional shells that burst among 
the branches above their heads. All the long morning the 
guns have been sullenly booming at one another across the open 
field, but the rattle of small arms has well-nigh ceased. 

And now, towards two o'clock in the afternoon, Pope decides 
that all is in readiness for the assault. McDowell, commanding 
the entire left from Reno to Reynolds, from half way to Sudley 
Church on the north of the pike to the Henry House on the 
hill just south of it, orders Porter to attack, and, with the eyes 
of the whole army upon him, that brilliant soldier leads in his two 
fine divisions, Morell in the front line, Sykes in reserve. Sweep- 
ing out across the open fields north of the highway, in long ex- 
tended lines of battle, with banners waving and with spirited 
bearing, his troops steadily advance towards the low slopes north 
of Groveton, along which lies in ugly relief the bare, brown 
parapet of that railway embankment. ' Porter's men have to 
make something of a half wheel to the right to bring their front 
parallel with the general line of that improvised field-work, but 
the movement is steadily performed despite the rapid bursting 
of the shells already whistling over their devoted heads ; and 
now in splendid form they are directing their march squarely 
upon that portion of the breastwork held by Starke with Jack- 
son's own old division, and Jackson, seeing that only Porter is 
coming and that all the rest of the Union lines seem looking 
on, directs Lawton with Ewell's division to edge to his right 
and be ready to help Starke. , 

And now, within rifle range, the crashing volleys mingle with 
the roar of the field-guns; the embankment is one long cloud of 
light, bluish smoke, but still the blue-clad ranks come steadily 
on. Soon they are well out in the open ground north of Grove- 
ton, and now the pace is quickened ; the men press forward 



650 MANASSAS. 

eager and enthusiastic. All promises well, when suddenly from 
down towards their left, back of Groveton, a thunderbolt seems 
to burst upon the little mound where Colonel Lee had planted 
his guns. The slope leaps with flame and soon is hidden in 
dense volumes of smoke, but twelve well-handled light guns are 
deluging Porter's left and sweeping his long lines, raking them 
with canister, and farther on, mowing them down with case-shot. 
A superb and desperate and gallant fight is made. His men 
reach the embankment and struggle hand-to-hand with the 
swarming gray-coats on the other side, but all the time those 
dreadful guns are pouring in their fire, and though King's division 
comes up, and Sigel is ordered to move forward and support them 
on their right, nothing sustains the shattered left, nor are there 
guns to oppose to Lee's brilliantly handled artillery. Why is 
this? 

Just about three o'clock, when Porter was most heavily en- 
gaged and fighting with all his energy, McDowell's practised 
eye had caught sight of heavy clouds of dust sweeping sky- 
wards over the tree-tops south of the turnpike. Nearer and 
nearer they came, and it needed but brief reflection to teach him 
what it meant — Longstreet was reaching forward to seize those 
heights that commanded the Northern lines — two hill-tops a 
little south of the turnpike and separated from each other by a 
brook known as Chinn's branch. The easternmost of the two, 
broad and well-wooded and crowned by the Henry House, had 
been the centre of battle the year before. The westernmost, 
oblong in shape, shorn of its timber, rocky, rugged, and known 
as Bald Hill, was destined to be the centre of battle this scorch- 
ing August afternoon. Seeing Longstreet's rush to gain it, Mc- 
Dowell had ordered Reynolds there with all the troops he had ; 
and Warren with a little brigade — perhaps a thousand men — was 
left to support Porter's left flank. No one else could be sent to 
help him from that side, and at last, well-nigh exhausted, having 
struggled valiantly for more than two hours, Porter's men came 
slowly falling back across the fields, just as Longstreet's divisions 
leaped from their cover south of the pike and swarmed forward 
on Bald Hill. 



A DESPERATE CRISIS. 651 

It is nearly five p. m., and now, confident of success, Lee 
orders a simultaneous assault. Yelling like demons, all along 
the two miles of embankment, up the dusty highway, out from 
the cover of the thick woods to the south, the red battle-flags 
waving over their heads, the exultant soldiery in the tattered 
gray uniforms spring to the charge — and at this moment Pope 
has not 45,000 men to meet them. Straggling and casualties 
have reduced his force more than one-half. 

It is a desperate crisis. South of the turnpike, bursting 
through the woods come the fierce Texans of Hood's division, 
closely followed by Kemper, Anderson and Wilcox, while D. R. 
Jones' strong division stretches far out on their right, and laps 
around the threatened height from the south. The immediate 
need of covering Porter's retiring lines and checking the pursuit, 
had for the time called Reynolds farther to the right front, and 
for a few moments Bald Hill, the key-point of the line, had been 
defenceless. Luckily there happened to be just north of the 
pike, along the Sudley Springs road, one of Sigel's brigades at 
the moment disengaged. It was composed entirely of Ohio 
men — four fine regiments, the Twenty-fifth, Fifty-fifth, Seventy- 
third and Seventy-fifth, led by Colonel N. C. McLean; and with 
all speed McLean's brigade was marched by the left flank to 
Bald Hill. In ten minutes it became the target for Longstreet's 
whole corps. 

The scene at half-past five p. m. is something grand yet terri- 
ble. For three successive evenings now, the little hamlet of 
Groveton has been the centre of a mortal struggle, but this is 
the most appalling yet. Off to the right, north of the pike, the 
thinned and bleeding lines of King and Porter are falling sullenly 
back to the Sudley Springs road. After them, firing, yelling, 
triumphant come the long lines of Jackson's corps, sweeping 
across the fields already thickly strewn with the dead and dying. 
To the right rear of Bald Hill the little command of Warren, 
those red-legged Zouaves of the Fifth New York and the Ger- 
mans of Bendix, are moving back, ordered to retire and reform 
at Henry House hill. Thither too are moving the solid regu- 
lars of Sykes' division, and Reynolds' remnant of Pennsylvanians. 
41 



652 MANASSAS. 

And Bald Hill, isolated, swept by artillery and musketry fire, 
surrounded now on northwest, west and south, is manned only 
by that one little brigade of McLean. Small wonder their 
brave commander thinks for the moment that he is abandoned 
by his friends. Tower's brigade of Rickett's division is hasten- 
ing to his support, but as yet has not reached him. McLean is 
practically alone when Hood's Texans hurl themselves with savage 
yells upon the western slopes, and Jones' Georgians burst in 
upon his left and rear. But stout hearts are beating on that 
barren crest, and Ohio's one brigade, the only distinctively 
Ohio brigade in the army, stands firm against the shock of ten 
times its weight in foes and gives them gallant battle. Their 
orders are to hold Bald Hill, and hold it they do until Tower, 
moving up on the left, and Schenck, dashing in with Koltes' 
brigade on the right, bring partial relief. Though " reduced to 
a skeleton," McLean's brigade has superbly held its post against 
all comers. Even Hood's dare-devil Texans have twice been 
hurled back from its steady front, and Jones' brigades have suf- 
fered severe loss. 

But now, heavily reinforced by Anderson and Wilcox on the 
west, and with the Georgian lines lapping still farther around to 
the south, threatening to envelop them entirely, a new and even 
fiercer assault is made by Longstreet on Bald Hill and its de- 
fenders. Tower is severely wounded and his brigade reels; 
Koltes, fighting on McLean's right, is killed; Schenck is hit 
and disabled ; Fletcher Webster, colonel of the Twelfth Massa- 
chusetts, and son of the great orator and statesman, is killed ;, 
and on the other side Hood has lost one-fourth his officers 
and men in killed and wounded, while in Jones' brigades hardly 
a field-officer is left to lead the gallant regiments that have so 
desperately striven to carry the height. Terrible as had been 
the slaughter in front of Jackson's earthen parapet, the hardest 
fighting, the most invincible valor of that hard-fought field, was 
shown towards sunset around the blazing slopes of Bald Hill. 

But by this time, pressed from every point, Pope's lines were 
falling steadily back towards Bull Run, Henry House hill being 
.now strongly held by the regular division and the divisions of 



THE FEDERAL ARMY FALLS BACK. 653 

Reynolds and such scattered troops as drifted in from the front. 
The batteries were drawn back and planted where they could 
sweep the approaches, and here Pope determined to make the 
final stand with his rear guard and cover the retirement of his 
army across the Stone Bridge. 

Bald Hill, outflanked and no longer of use — no longer tenable 
— was ordered abandoned. The shattered remnants of the 
heroic regiments that had held it against such odds were slowly 
withdrawn ; Schenck's men fell back by the pike ; Tower's brig- 
ades down the valley of Chinn's branch, and from the crest 
itself, strewn with their dead and dying, McLean's little band 
of Ohio men turned reluctantly away, their brave leader abso- 
lutely shedding tears at having to abandon the position he 
had held with such indomitable resolution and at such frightful 
cost. 

And now Longstreet hurls his whole force on the wooded 
crest beyond. There stands the height where Bee and Bartow 
laid down their lives the year before. There is the field where 
Jackson's men were likened to the stone wall they lined — the old 
battle-ground of First Bull Run. Win that, now, and the orderly 
retreat of the Northerners will be turned as it was that July 
Sunday afternoon into disorderly rout. Straining every nerve, 
hoarse with continuous yelling (and never, say those who heard 
it, " Never did the rebs yell as they did at Second Bull Run "), 
the divisions of Hood, Anderson and Kemper press forward 
to the charge. Jones is still crawling around the left flank and 
attacking from the south, but here again they encounter cool, 
dauntless, devoted men. The Northern batteries are magnifi- 
cently served ; the regulars, despite their small numbers and 
heavy losses, fight with a calm, disciplined, matter-of-fact sort of 
valor that checks the rush and ardor of the sons of Texas and 
Virginia. One long hour of crashing volleys, of thundering 
cannon, of mad, vengeful yelling that little by little died away, 
and as darkness fell upon the scene, the three days' struggle 
around the " plains " of Manassas was at an end, and, again 
beaten, but this time in perfect order, in calm, disciplined, 
coherent organization, the army of the North fell back beyond 
Bull Run, and bivouacked upon the heights of Centreville. 



654 MANASSAS. 

Beaten again but by no means demoralized, Pope prepared 
to resume the fight. He was now in splendid position ; and 
small as was his command, compared with the numbers on the 
muster rolls of the combined armies of Virginia and the Potomac, 
he had plenty of men to beat off Lee should he attempt to fol- 
low. Rations were obtained at Centreville, and all day on the 
31st the army waited expecting assault. The corps of Sumner 
and Franklin were at last up from Alexandria, and it behooved 
Lee to be very cautious in his movements. But the moral effect 
of having pushed Pope way back from the Rapidan to the near 
vicinity of Washington was immense, and the greatest consterna- 
tion and alarm had spread throughout the North. Pope's re- 
assuring despatches to the capital failed in their effect. Mc- 
Clellan was at Alexandria sneering at everything that Pope had 
done and left undone, virtually saying that had he been there it 
could not have happened. It rained dismally all the day of the 
31st, and the dismal weather added to the general gloom. Peo- 
ple had lost faith in Pope, and withheld support and confidence 
at the very moment when he most needed it. 

On the other hand, Lee, the Southern army and the jubilant 
South were wild with triumph. Despite his heavy losses in bat- 
tle the Southern leader determined to finish the magnificent work 
of demolishing the army of Pope, not by direct attack on those 
heavily fortified heights, but by the daring old plan which Jack- 
son knew so well how to execute, that of striking around the 
flank and rear. Once again, early on the morning of September 
1st, Jackson's corps, which had crossed Bull Run at Sudley ford, 
reached the Little River turnpike, then turned southeastward 
and marched down through Chantilly and past Ox Hill. His 
plan was to reach the great highway between Centreville, Fair- 
fax and Washington, and " cut off the retreat " of Pope's com- 
mand. With perhaps 23,000 men he meant to try and bar the 
passage of something like 70,000. It was just as wild and dar- 
ing a scheme as the flank march through Thoroughfare Gap ; 
but that had succeeded. Longstreet was to follow him only a 
few hours behind, so he had no fears for the result of this. 

Late in the afternoon he found himself confronted by Hooker 



GENERALS KEARNEY AND STEVENS KILLEB, 65& 

on the Little River pike. He could not get to Fairfax that way. 
so he turned down to his right through a cross-road until Hill's 
division was almost filing on the Warrenton pike, and there he 
found himself suddenly attacked by Reno and Kearney, his 
antagonists of two days before. Then came a savage fight in a 
pouring rain, and then, luckily for Jackson, darkness ; for but for 
that he would have been utterly hemmed in by overpowering 
numbers, and probably ruined before Longstreet could reach 
him ; but here again the fortune of war was on his side. His 
men had the best of the fight while it lasted, and that night all 
Washington knew that Jackson was in sight of the fortifications, 
that there had been another fierce engagement, and that two 
superb soldiers and generals, " Phil " Kearney and Isaac I. 
Stevens, were killed in the midst of disaster. It ended Pope's 
career. The army was ordered to hasten back to the fortifications, 
and, not knowing what else to do in the bitter emergency, the 
government once more placed McClellan at the head of affairs 
in the field. The campaign of Second Bull Run in Manassas 
was at an end. 

As to results : the Northern army had lost from Cedar moun- 
tain to the Potomac more than one-fourth its number in killed, 
wounded and prisoners. Sickness and straggling had still 
further reduced it, but the stragglers as a rule reassembled under 
the colors back of Centreville. Yet such had been the disci- 
pline and determination of the men that the proportion of un- 
bounded prisoners was very small, and, except in the great battle 
of the 30th, it had lost no batteries in action or on the march. 
Those captured by Stuart at the Junction were unguarded. The 
killed and wounded in the fighting of the 28th and 29th in Gen- 
eral Pope's army summed up 4,500, and on the 30th it must have 
been somewhat heavier; but in killed, wounded and prisoners it 
is not probable that his loss on those three days of fighting ex- 
ceeded 12,000, while on the afternoon of the 30th alone Long- 
street's corps lost 3,498 in killed and wounded ; and the total 
killed, wounded and prisoners of Lee's army on the plains of 
Manassas could not have been less than 8,000 men. 

From first to last brilliancy, daring and consummate good 



656 



MANASSAS. 



luck marked every move on the Southern side, while dogged 
and disciplined courage, that rose superior to misfortune and a 
host of misunderstandings, was the characteristic of the Northern 
army. An awful gloom overspread the loyal States after the 
retreat to Washington, and, but for McClellan's bloody yet fruit- 
less victory at Antietam, there is no telling what might have re- 
sulted from the renewed machinations of the " peace party." 
National fortunes seemed indeed at the lowest ebb ; but forti- 
tude, patience and courage finally prevailed. Lee's retreat south 
of the Rappahannock measurably restored public confidence, 
and the armies went into winter quarters to repair damages and 
prepare for the next move. 




BATTLE-FIELD OF MANASSAS. 

(Position of the troops at sunset, Aug. 28, 1862.) 




BATTLE OF CHANCELLORSVILLE. JACKSON'S ATTACK. {A. R. Waud.) 



CHANCELLORSVILLE. 




1863 

BY JAMES H. WILLARD. 

HE command of the Army of the Potomac was 
assumed by General Joseph Hooker, January 
26th, 1863. Weakened by campaigning and 
disasters ; demoralized by poignant homesick- 
ness, daily desertions and political influences ; 
the army reflected the general despondency 
of the country. The impassable Virginia 
roads precluded artillery and infantry from 
active operations during the months of Feb- 
ruary and March, and the greater part of April. During this 
period of inactivity the new Commander-in-Chief employed him- 
self in a complete reorganization of the army. Absentees were 
recalled ; elements that lowered the morale of the command were 
eliminated. The cavalry were consolidated, and sent upon daring 
raids whenever the state of the roads would allow. So indefatiga- 
ble were the efforts of the patriotic leader, that by the middle 
of April he possessed an army of 1 10,000 infantry and artillery, 
400 guns and 13,000 cavalry, all in a high state of discipline, 
and pervaded with the lofty spirit of its commander. 

Nor had Lee been idle during this time. The conscription 
act had augmented his forces materially; the arsenals had 
furnished him with new offensive material ; supplies were forth- 
coming for the subsistence of his veterans and raw levies. The 
discipline of his troops was perfect ; their enthusiasm unbounded. 
To compensate for the disparity in numbers between his force 
and that of Hooker's, Lee relied upon a chain of elaborate for- 
tifications stretching for twenty-five miles along his front. Ad- 
42 (659) 



660 CHANCELLORSVILLE. 

ditional defences had also been erected in the rear of Fredricks- 
burg. 

Cavalry raids were not confined to the Union troopers. While 
the opposing forces were being brought to a high state of 
effectiveness, W. H. H. Lee led an unsuccessful attempt upon 
the Union troops at Gloucester Point. This was in February. 
In March, Moseby, the guerilla leader won fame and promotion 
by his dash into Fairfax Court- House, the capture of its com- 
manding officer, many horses and military stores. A desperate 
cavalry battle occurred on March 17th, when Averill and 
Fitzhugh Lee met near Culpepper Court- House. This was the 
first cavalry action of the Civil War. In April, Stoneman set 
out to disperse Fitzhugh Lee's 2,000 horsemen, and to destroy 
the railroad that afforded Lee communication with Richmond. 
Heavy rains and swollen streams compelled the abandonment 
of this project. 

Chancellorsville is ten miles southwest of Fredericksburg, and 
to that point Hooker despatched Meade, Howard and Slocum 
on April 27th. After a remarkable march of thirty-seven miles 
over heavy roads and across two rivers, the column, encumbered 
with baggage and artillery, reached Chancellorsville on the 30th. 
Here they were joined by a portion of Couch's corps, who had 
crossed the Rappahannock at another point. Anderson, the 
Confederate commander, retired from the place on the morning 
of the same day. Leaving Falmouth, Hooker now marched to 
Chancellorsville, and established his headquarters there. A 
slight cavalry skirmish during the night, was the first encounter 
with the enemy. 

While these operations were in progress, Sedgwick, who com- 
manded Hooker's left, had thrown Brooks' and Wadsworth's 
divisions across the Rappahannock. These dispersed the Con- 
federate pickets and threw up breastworks, while Sickles was 
successfully leading his corps to Chancellorsville by another 
route. This movement of Sickles' was unknown to Lee, who 
was watching Sedgwick, and manceuvering to keep him from 
joining the main army. Early had been left by Lee, to defend 
Fredericksburg; Jackson was sent toward Chancellorsville. 



JACKSON'S BOLD MOVE. 661 

Meeting Anderson near the Tabernacle church the combined 
forces advanced toward Hooker, who had sent Griffin and 
Humphreys in the direction of Banks' Ford ; Sykes and Han- 
cock along the turnpike, toward the Tabernacle church ; Slocum 
and Howard along the plank road that led to the same point. 
Sykes' cavalry were driven back after a brilliant skirmish, but, 
bringing up his artillery, the Union General forced McLaws — 
who commanded the second division of Jackson's column, from 
his position, and gained a ridge which commanded Chancellors- 
ville, and virtually put the Union forces in command of Banks' 
Ford which was coveted by Lee. 

A deadly grapple between Jackson and Slocum — much to the 
advantage of the Confederates, admonished Hooker that his 
columns were in peril, and it only needed the intelligence that 
Sykes was being flanked, to induce him to withdraw his forces 
to Chancellorsville ; the Confederates close upon his heels. 
Two councils of war were held that night. At Hooker's a de- 
fensive policy was decided upon. Under the pines, near the 
plank road, Lee agreed to the bold plan of his chief counsellor 
Jackson, — a flank movement upon Hooker's rear. 

Masked by the thick woods, the 25,000 men who that 
day followed the fortunes of the gallant Jackson, stole 
away, to fulfill their consign. The crossing of Lewis Creek 
discovered them to Birney, who was at once sent by Sickles — 
under Hooker's direction, to solve the mystery of the Con- 
federate movement. With Whipple and Barlow's brigades, 
limey engaged the enemy and forced him from the highway, 
yet, by wood paths and by cutting a new road, Jackson's 
column pressed on, losing, however, the Twenty-third Georgia 
during a Union charge. Anderson's infantry and Brown's ar- 
tillery were two strong for Birney's further advance, but he held 
the road over which Jackson had passed. In reply to Sickles' 
call for reinforcements, Pleasanton's cavalry and two brigades 
from Howard and Slocum were sent to assist in the pursuit of 
the Confederates, who were supposed to be in retreat. But the 
wily Jackson was under cover of the dense scrub known as the 
Wilderness, crouching for a spring upon Hooker's right. 



662 CHANCELLORSVILLE. 

Unaware of impending disaster, Howard's corps was pre- 
paring supper and arranging for the night. Suddenly, with a 
yell that rose above the bugle calls and outpost fire, the flower 
of Lee's army fell upon Devens, at the extreme of the Union 
line. Amid the pandemonium of sound, the surprised Union- 
ists fled in panic before the irresistible onrush of the Southrons. 
In a turbulent tide they streamed to the rear and along the road 
to Chancellorsville ; their commander severely wounded ; one- 
third of their number captured or disabled. The contagion of 
panic spread to Schurz's and Von Steinwehr's divisions; the^ 
few regiments who stood their ground, crumbled before the assault 
of the grey-coated legions ; with half their number dead or 
dying, they joined their flying comrades. Rallying some of 
Schurz's men at Dowdall's Tavern, Von Steinwehr, with 
Buschbeck's brigade, checked the Confederate advance for a 
brief time, only to lose the position to Rodes and Colston. 
Through the summer twilight, what was once the gallant 
Eleventh, still fled along the dusty roads. 

Hooker now attempted to recover the field. Sickles ex- 
tricated himself from a critical situation, with the aid of Pleas- 
anton, who hurled the Eighth Pennsylvania at Jackson as he 
thundered after the hapless Eleventh corps. This stayed the 
Confederate advance long enough to save Sickles' guns, which 
had been left behind at Hazel Grove. But at a fearful price, 
for nearly all of the gallant regiment lay in ghastly heaps upon 
the bloody ground. Lee plied Slocum and Couch with a heavy 
artillery fire ; Hancock successfully resisted the attack upon 
his division. 

Jackson, anxious to inflict an additional blow upon Hooker, 
rode in front of his lines to reconnoitre before ordering a second 
attack. Returning with his staff and escort, the party was mis- 
taken in the gloom for Union cavalry, and fired upon. Several 
were killed and wounded. Pierced by three bullets — one in the 
right hand and two in the left arm, one of which shattered the 
bone, Jackson turned his frightened horse into the plank road, 
and fell into the arms of Captain Wilborn, one of his staff. 
The flow of blood was stopped by General Hill, and Jackson 



REYNOLDS JOINS HOOKER. 665 

was borne on a litter to the Confederate hospital at the Wilder- 
ness Tavern. One of the bearers of the litter was killed on the 
way. Jackson's arm was amputated, and a few days later, he 
was removed to Guinea station, near Richmond. Pneumonia, 
however, was the principal cause of his death which occurred 
on May ioth. 

" Stonewall " Jackson was the right arm of Lee, superior in 
moral force, personal magnetism and executive ability to his 
commanding officer. His loss to the Confederacy was irrep- 
arable. The rugged veterans who had followed him without 
flinching, over many hotly-contested fields, wept like children 
when the death of their beloved commander was announced. 

No forward movement was attempted by the Confederates 
during the night of May 2d. The Union lines recovered some 
lost ground ; Reynolds, with 20,000 men joined Hooker 
during the evening ; Sickles took up a new line, west of 
Chancellorsville. With the shout of " Charge, and remember 
Jackson," at dawn on Sunday, May 3d, Stuart opened an attack. 
Thirty cannon played upon the Union lines as Stuart threw him- 
self upon Sickles and his support. Hazel Grove and four guns 
fell to the Confederates. With his ammunition nearly exhausted, 
Sickles sent for reinforcements, but held his position for a while, 
with the bayonet. But the Union forces for an hour were vir- 
tually without a head. Hooker was lying wounded and sense- 
less, and Couch, upon whom the command had devolved, had 
withdrawn headquarters from the Chancellor House. As the 
tide of battle ebbed and flowed around Fairview, Lee ordered a 
general advance. His army was united ; Hooker's divided. At 
ten o'clock in the forenoon, the Confederates occupied Chancel- 
lorsville. At noon, Hooker recovered sufficiently to take com- 
mand of the army which Couch had withdrawn to the northward 
of the Chancellor House — now a ghastly ruin. 

Meanwhile, Sedgwick had captured the heights of Fredericks- 
burg, and was hastening toward Chancellorsville, along the plank 
road. Lee sent McLaws to meet him, but Wilcox had essayed 
to stop the Union advance at Salem Church and a neighboring 
schoolhouse. Brooks' division drove Wilcox's troops from the 



666 CHANCELLORSVILLE. 

schoolhouse and gained the hill. Wilcox recaptured the posi- 
tion and drove the Unionists back ; Tompkins' artillery checked 
the Confederate pursuit. On the morning of May 4th, the Union 
situation bordered on the desperate. Lee was bending his en- 
ergies to defeat a junction between Sedgwick and Hooker. On 
that day, Early, by a swift movement, cut off Fredericksburg 
from Sedgwick, and recaptured the heights. Late in the day, 
Sedgwick, resisting obstinately, was forced to give way. Re- 
tiring toward Banks' Ford he reached the north bank of the 
Rappahannock, during the night ; Gibbon crossed the river to 
Falmouth ; Lee was left with only Hooker to confront him. 
With Sedgwick unable to cooperate with him, Hooker now de- 
cided upon the retreat of the main army. Crossing the swollen 
Rappahannock during the night of the fifth, the Army of the 
Potomac took up its old quarters opposite Fredericksburg. 

Hooker's loss, including 5,000 prisoners, was something over 
17,000 men, thirteen guns, several thousand small arms, a large 
quantity of ammunition and seventeen colors. The reports of 
Lee's subordinates placed the Confederate loss at upward of 12,- 
OOO men and 2,000 prisoners. Both commanders issued con- 
gratulatory addresses to their armies, but the struggle of several 
days around Chancellorsville, brought defeat and disaster to the 
Union forces. 



UNION. 
CMFCOUtATC 




BATTLEFIELD OF CHANCELLORSVILLE. 



(667) 



GETTYSBURG. 




1863. 

REAT as had been the elation throughout the 
Southern States after the victory of their arms 
at Manassas in '62, it was as nothing com- 
pared with the whirlwind of delight in May 
and June, '63. Talking to Americans it is 
needless to go into details. The intervening 
events may be briefly told as regards the war 
in Virginia. 

Emboldened by success, General Lee de- 
cided to carry the war into Maryland, hoping to win that entire 
State to the Southern cause ; and, though met and defeated at 
Antietam, it was a fruitless victory for the North. Lee got 
safely back across the Potomac, and in the following winter 
crushed General Burnside at Fredericksburg (December 13th, 
'62), and in the following spring emphatically paralyzed General 
Hooker at Chancellorsville (April 29th to May 4th, '63). All 
these engagements had been fraught with bitter loss and humilia- 
tion to the Union cause, and the Northern people were in deep 
distress of mind. Despite the acknowledged steadfastness and 
bravery of the Army of the Potomac, it seemed as though noth- 
ing could prevail against the skill and daring of the Southern 
leaders. With them there appeared to be such perfect concord 
of action. They " backed one another up " on every occasion, 
as in the old days we have seen Marlborough and Prince Eugene 
pulling together and never losing a fight ; while on the North- 
ern side it reminded one of the homely old saying, " Too many 
cooks spoil the broth." This brings to mind a second proverb 
which ought to have been of use to the Union : " In multipiidt) 

669 



G70 GETTYSBURG. 

of councils there is wisdom," and this recalls a third, which, 
wrung from the lips of an exasperated general-in-chief after 
Gettysburg, fairly demolished the second : " Councils (of war) 
never fight." 

It is thrilling to look back on the situation in Virginia up to 
Chancellorsville and mark how Lee, with his great lieutenants, 
Jackson, Longstreet, Stuart, Ewell and A. P. Hill, with far in- 
ferior forces, thwarted the manoeuvres of the Northern arms. 
It is painful to us Northerners to take this retrospect and see 
how we " experimented" with chief after chief. They, the South- 
erners, picked out their leaders after the first few months, and 
stood by them from first to last. We only set a man up to 
knock him down. The Army of the Potomac was always in a 
state of ferment, not to say divided loyalty, as regarded its 
leaders. No commander it ever had commanded its undivided 
allegiance, unless it was that, tired and sick . of dissension, it 
concluded to make its best effort under the gallant gentleman 
who led it to victory, at last, at Gettysburg, and who thenceforth 
was its chief until the final disbandment. 

And yet, despite all this, it was ready to march and fight and 
get whipped time and again with a " never-say-die " determina- 
tion that entitles it to the lasting love and respect of the nation 
it finally saved from ruin, or at least took the lion's share of the 
hard knocks in doing it ; for nowhere else were such foemen 
gathered in such force as breasted its blows and so scientifically 
returned them. 

But things were black enough after Chancellorsville. Hooker, 
not his army, was demoralized. Lee knew it, and now with his 
army in glorious discipline and " trim," the Southern leader 
determined to take advantage of Northern indetermination, 
march squarely into Pennsylvania, and conquer a peace at the 
gates of the wealthy and populous cities of the North. 

Of course now, as heretofore, the Army of the Potomac was 
" m ggi n g ^s drag-chain," that never-to-be-neglected duty of 
defending the capital city. Let the South once get hold of 
Washington, and England and France, both of them only 
too ready and eager, would " recognize " the independence of 



LEE INVADES THE NORTH. 671 

the South and forbid further proceedings on the part of the 
North. Then we would have been split in twain. Other divi- 
sions would soon have come, and the Great Republic would 
have gone to pieces. In his sleepless anxiety, that patient, 
God-given figure-head of the nation, Abraham Lincoln, had 
summoned to his side, and made general-in-chief of all the armies, 
the late General Henry W. Halleck, a man learned as a lawyer 
and as a soldier, a man who would have made a surprisingly good 
campaign in the open country of Europe; but he too was 
weighted with that incubus, the defence of Washington, and had 
the faculty of worrying the generals in the field; and the arrange- 
ment did not work smoothly. 

As though in utter contempt for his adversary, General Lee 
sent away corps after corps, leaving at last only General Hill 
with his corps to hold the lines of Fredericksburg against 
Hooker, who still hung to his camps around Falmouth. The 
Southern army was strung out over the country in long column 
of march towards Culpeper Court-House. 

Now was the time to crush it — but it was not crushed. Their 
move began on the 3d of June. By the 8th, Lee and the lead- 
ing troops were at Culpeper ; still the Fredericksburg heights 
were heavily occupied, and not until the 9th did Hooker do 
anything but puzzle over the situation. 

That day he pushed out his cavalry to see what was going on, 
and they found out. Buford and Gregg, two sterling leaders of 
horse, took their divisions across the Rappahannock way up on 
?Hooker's right, and dashed into a large force of Stuart's cavalry. 
Then followed the only real cavalry combat of the war, the 
combined fight of Beverly Ford and Brandy Station. It lasted 
until night, and, if official reports are to be believed, both sides 
got the best of it. At all events it was a spirited and dashing 
affair, and for the first time the Southerners began to feel some 
respect for Northern horsemen. All the cavalry in the two 
armies took part in it, charging and counter-charging, sabre in 
hand. A loss of half a thousand was sustained on each side, 
and after that, as a rule, except in skirmishes, the cavalry dis- 
mounted to fight. 



672 GETTYSBURG. 

On June 1 3th it began to dawn upon the Union generally that 
something was coming northward, for on that evening Ewell's 
corps had suddenly appeared in the Shenandoah, and all Hook- 
er's army had found out that Lee was a week ahead on a race 
for the Potomac. This was ghastly. Washington was panic- 
stricken. Hooker sent his right wing off in pursuit, but wanted 
to stop and demolish Hill with the rest of his army, but Wash- 
ington would not listen to it. It would have been a splendid 
thing, but the President, Cabinet and General Halleck said no. 
" Head him off. Get between him and us. Do this. Don't do 
it." Such, in unprofessional language, was about the nature of 
the orders that came pouring in on General Hooker, who, now 
that he was awake, was fully alive to the situation. Before he 
got to the Potomac he had lost all patience. Worse than that, 
the entire Southern army was already across and sweeping up the 
Cumberland valley, while Ewell, far ahead of everybody, was 
well up towards Harrisburg. 

Crossing his own army at Edward's Ferry on the 25th of 
June, Hooker, " swearing mad " by this time, hurried to Frederick, 
and there, considering himself hampered in every way by the 
contradictory orders from Washington, and certainly forbidden 
to do the very things he considered essential to success, on June 
27th the general begged to be, and was, relieved from the com- 
mand. 

He had been a splendid division commander — had not been a 
loyal and subordinate corps commander when serving under 
Burnside, yet, " in spite of these things, not because of them," as 
Mr. Lincoln wrote him, he had stepped into the chief command 
of the Army of the Potomac and had vastly improved it, espe- 
cially its cavalry; but Chancellorsville broke his popularity and 
really undermined him. He did gallant service subsequently in 
the West, but the Army of the Potomac saw him no more. 

Now for the next man. On the 28th of June, the army was 
somewhat surprised to hear that its destinies were to be confided 
to Major-General George G. Meade, the then leader of the gal- 
lant Fifth corps, and no one was more surprised than himself. 
He was not the senior corps commander. Less than a year 



MEADE AT THE HEAD OF THE ARMY. 675. 

before we saw him at the head of a tiny brigade in the little divi- 
sion of Pennsylvanians under John F. Reynolds, and Reynolds 
was on the spot with an unimpeachable record and the reputa- 
tion of being a soldier of unusual brilliancy. Meade had never 
sought the position. He was a modest, faithful soldier, a man 
who cared nothing for popularity, but commanded respect; a 
man who lived and died a gentleman, and who, stepping into 
the chieftaincy of this great army at the crisis of its history, was 
destined to lead it to its greatest victory, and never thenceforth 
to be other than chief on its rolls. 

And now we have both our armies north of the Potomac. 
The whole country, north and south, is waiting the result in 
breathless anxiety, and, as the greatest battle ever known on 
the continent is about to be fought, let us look well at the com- 
batants. 

On the Southern side is their noble and invincible Lee, the 
beau ideal of the soldier and the gentleman, the idol of the 
South, the now honored of the reunited nation. With him he 
brings three superbly disciplined and devoted corps of infantry, 
and those reckless, hard-riding troopers of the cavalier Stuart. 
Just now they are widely scattered over the broad lands of 
Maryland and Pennsylvania — everything getting out of their 
way with justifiable speed. Farthest north of all, scaring the 
militia into burning the beautiful bridge across the Susquehanna, 
and now somewhere about Carlisle, is the most renowned march- 
ing corps in either army, that of old Stonewall Jackson ; but he 
himself lies far away in his honored grave, and Lee's right-hand 
man is no more. In his place rides his division commander, 
Ewell, who, less than a year ago, we saw lose his leg in front of 
the stubborn line of the Iron Brigade. Tutored as he was, no 
fear that Ewell will fail his great commander. Daring soldiers 
head his divisions in Early and Johnson and Rodes. 

The next corps is led by A. P. Hill, a most accomplished and 
gallant officer of the old army, and Heth, Anderson and Pender 
are his division commanders ; while the third corps, numeri- 
cally the First, perhaps the finest of all, is that of the old war- 
dog, Longstreet, who has three superb divisions, famous 



676 GETTYSBURG. 

" stayers," and as one of them, " Hood's Texans " are marvels 
in attack. Another, Pickett's Virginians, are " die-hards," and 
prove it in this very battle. The third, McLaw's, is more mixed 
in composition — but is a good one. 

But now as Lee is marching eastward to concentrate near 
Gettysburg, and Ewell is coming southward to join him, what is 
most needed is his cavalry, " the eyes of the army ; " and, by great 
bad luck for him, Stuart with his whole force of troopers is far 
over to the southeast on the opposite side of the Union army, 
which is hurrying northward with all speed in search of Lee. 

Knowing that he would have a much larger army to fight, the 
great Southern leader had promised his generals that he would 
not be the assailant, but that he would take up a strong position 
and compel the Northern armies to attack him. To effect this 
it was absolutely necessary that he should have his " eyes " way 
out in every direction to give timely warning of the coming of 
the foe ; but the first troopers he was destined to see were 
Buford's " Yanks." The two leading divisions of Hill's corps, 
bivouacked on the broad pike from Chambersburg to Baltimore, 
and Pettigrew's men, thrown well out to the front, not six miles 
from the town, suddenly encountered long lines of cavalry skir- 
mishers. These are Buford's boys. This is the first meeting of 
the great combat so soon to rage in fury, and it is late on the 
afternoon of the last day of June. 

The principal leaders of the Southern army having been 
named, it remains now to look at those of the North. For years 
their names and their portraits were far more familiar than pen 
can make them now. Lee, with three large corps d'arm'ee — his 
army numbering 70,000 "present for duty," was being pursued 
by Meade with six smaller corps, and his cavalry, a total of 
100,000 men, " with the colors." Lee had 206 guns. Meade 
had 352. Lee had but recently reorganized his army, still keep- 
ing up that superb system of brigading his men by States, so 
that entire divisions, Pickett's for instance, were recruited from 
one commonwealth. With us, regiments were assigned accord- 
ing to no apparent system — Maine, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin 
perhaps being grouped in the same brigade. Lee had three 



SKETCHES OF NORTHERN LEADERS. 677 

large divisions to each corps. Meade had sometimes three, 
sometimes two, but smaller than Lee's in every case. When it 
is said, therefore, that on the 30th of June, 1863, six Northern 
corps were about to engage three from the South, the effect pro- 
duced is not justifiable. 

It was with the First, Second, Third, Fifth, Eleventh and 
Twelfth corps that General Meade essayed the task of bringing 
the Southern force to bay, and his generals were as follows : first, 
and deservedly first, John F. Reynolds, First corps, a man uni- 
versally regarded as the most brilliant, and one of the most gal- 
lant soldiers in the whole army. His division commanders were 
the veteran Wadsworth, of New York, in whose division, under 
Meredith, is the Iron Brigade we saw fighting so stubbornly a 
year agone. The Second division is commanded by Robinson, 
a soldier of tried mettle ; and the Third by Doubleday of Fort 
Sumter fame, and a man who won the record of being a " stayer " 
at Antietam. 

Then comes the Second corps, and at its head is the knightly 
Hancock, a soldier the world has since learned to know and to 
honor, and his fine divisions are led by Caldwell, Gibbon (whom 
we saw fighting all Jackson's corps with that one brigade last 
year) and Hays, who, already severely wounded, is destined to 
do some hard hitting in the next two days. 

General Daniel E. Sickles commands the Third corps. Soldier- 
ing was not his profession before the war, but he takes to it with 
wonderful ease. He has but two divisions ; but they are led by 
Birney of Peninsula fame, and by Humphreys, than whom the 
army contains no more determined a fighter, and few men so 
thoroughly skilled in their profession. 

Then comes the Fifth corps, so lately commanded by General 
Meade. It is now led by General George Sykes, a cool, stead- 
fast, reliable old regular. All the regular infantry is in this 
corps in the brigade of General Ayres, lately a dashing battery 
commander. Barnes commands the First division, and Craw- 
ford, a hero of Sumter and Cedar Mountain, the Third. 

The Sixth corps stands next in numerical order, and its 
magnificent leader, brave, steadfast General John Sedgwick, 



678 GETTYSBURG. 

commands the respect and admiration of the whole army. The 
Sixth corps is especially strong in artillery, it having eight 
batteries, forty-eight guns in all, four batteries being the usual 
allowance at this period of the war. Wright, Howe and 
Wheaton are the division commanders. All " regular" soldiers 
and men of experience in many fields. 

Then comes the Eleventh corps, an ill-starred command, only 
just recovering from the shock received at the hands of Stone- 
wall Jackson at Chancellorsville. General Howard now, as at 
that time, is its commander, a man more eminent for piety and 
personal gallantry than for success as a soldier. His divisions 
are led by Barlow (who nearly loses his life in trying to rally it 
the next day, and is left for dead behind it), Von Steinwehr, a 
Prussian well schooled in the art of war, and General Carl 
Schurz, who knows little about it, but makes up for it in courage 
and intelligence. 

The Twelfth corps is the command of Major-General Slocum, 
who is senior in rank to all the others, and who saw service at 
Antietam ; but he has but two small divisions, Williams' and 
Geary's, with many untried troops. Yet they are destined to do 
good work in the next three days. 

General Lee, as has been seen, was without the services of his 
cavalry at Gettysburg. Not so with Meade. He is blessed 
with three divisions, small in numbers, perhaps, but already 
becoming adepts in their duties. General Pleasonton heads the 
corps, and has for his assistants, first and foremost, John Buford, 
the best cavalry leader of his day ; and Gregg and Kilpatrick, 
both men of energy. But it is among the brigade commanders 
that we find the names that became most distinguished in their 
peculiar arm — Farnsworth, Merritt, Custer and Devin. 

General Meade is also fortunate in having a staff, some of 
which, notably the brilliant engineer Warren, are men of un- 
equalled efficiency. He has also admirable light artillery and a 
chief (Hunt) who knows how to use it. In fact, take it all in 
all, the Northern army is far superior in many respects to the 
Southern ; but it lacks the discipline, the unanimity and the 
supreme confidence of the latter. 



CONCENTRATING AT GETTYSBURG. 681 

Now to go back to the night of June 30th. From every 
point of the compass, troops are concentrating on Gettysburg — 
Lee's army, oddly enough, from the north and west ; Meade's 
from the south and east. Buford's cavalry division is the only 
one actually at the spot as the sun goes down. The nearest 
supports are at Emmetsburg, or just a little north, say five miles 
from Gettysburg, where General Reynolds with the First and 
Eleventh corps has gone into bivouac for the night. The Third 
and Twelfth corps are not very much farther away towards the 
southeast. 

Two of Hill's (Southern) divisions, as has been said, are in 
bivouac, five or six miles west of Gettysburg. Ewell's whole 
corps is within easy call, eight or nine miles to the north ; but 
Buford's thin cavalry line has gone out toward the setting sun v 
and some two miles tvest of the town. There he and Petti- 
grew's footmen have halted, face to face, and the skilled cavalry- 
man knows what it means to confront an infantry brigade at 
such a time and place. There are others behind it. He knows 
well that their object is to get to Gettysburg before Meade's in- 
fantry, and it is his duty to stand them off as long as possible. 
" We'll have to fight like the very devil," he says to General 
Devin ; " but we must hold them." " They'll be down on us 
first thing in the morning." With that, night closes on the 
scene and God's truce upon the opposing armies. 

Gettysburg is a little town in southern Pennsylvania that, but 
for the battle, would never be heard of outside the State ; it lies 
about ninety miles due west from Philadelphia. Off to the south- 
east, and " east of south " lie Baltimore and Washington, even a 
less distance away. The town lies in a shallow depression. 
Heights or ridges, low, rocky and wood-crowned, surround it on 
every side. The streams, and there are many of them, all run 
south. Willoughby Run on the west, Plum Run on the south, 
and Rock Creek on the east — all within two miles — are the prin- 
cipal water-courses. North and east the slopes are low, rolling 
and heavily wooded. West, shutting off the view and separat- 
ing it from the low valley of Willoughby Run, is a ridge running 
almost north and south, They call it " Seminary Ridge," be- 
43 



682 GETTYSBURG. 

cause of a Lutheran institution built thereon just west of the town. 
East of this ridge and south of the town is a fertile valley about 
one mile in width ; and, parallel with the ridge, bounding the 
valley on the east, is another ridge, bolder, steeper, rockier and 
far more open. This is the famed Cemetery Ridge. It runs 
square to the north until within a mile of the town, where it 
sweeps in a bold curve around to the east and turns south again 
at Rock Creek. Its top is a plateau a mile wide. At its north- 
eastern front is a heavily wooded mound — Culp's Hill. Its 
southern extremity, nearly four miles from Gettysburg, is marked 
by a huge, jagged, boulder-strewn " butte," it would be called 
out west. This is Round Top, and nestling under its shoulder to 
the north is its counterpart, half-size — Little Round Top. Be- 
tween them and to the west of Little Round Top, lies a rocky 
gorge — mark it well. That is Devil's Den. Plum Run curdles 
at their feet. Then out in the valley lies a wheat-field nearly op- 
posite Little Round Top, and out farther still, reaching to the 
pike, a peach orchard. 

Crossing the valley from the southwest to northeast in long 
diagonal is the broad road to Emmetsburg. It runs along a 
low ridge of its own, and, just skirting the northern base of 
Cemetery Ridge, enters Gettysburg from the south. And this, 
in brief, is a crude description of the ground over which our 
greatest battle is to be fought. 

But first we have a prelude, and a sad one, for the Union 
cause. 

At first break of day on the ist of July, as though by one 
simultaneous impulse, the scattered soldiery spring to arms. 
Those who are happy enough to possess the luxury, gulp down 
their steaming cans of coffee and take a bracing souse in the 
nearest stream. Many a Southern boy, however, sets forth on 
his trudge without the gladdening beverage, but all the same he 
swings along, cheerily and hopefully. What would he not do ? 
Where would he not go for " Bob Lee ? " It has been raining off 
and on, through June, but July breaks in with a burst of sunshine. 
The woods are green, the streams are bank-full, the roads are 
clear of choking dust. What more could soldier ask with such 



THE BATTLE BEGINS. 685 

a glorious prospect before him ? Meade and Lee are destined to 
meet right here in this peaceful valley, still dim and misty after the 
dews of night, and neither Meade nor Lee knows it. The former 
half expects to form his battle-line and fight along Pipe creek, 
farther to the east. The latter longs for Stuart and hopes to 
hear of him at Gettysburg. It is his worst error so far — this 
sending Stuart off on a distant raid — and the chief already re- 
grets it. But it is too late now. Stuart is sweeping up towards 
• Carlisle. 

i Morning reveals the pickets of Pettigrew and Buford grimly 
regarding one another along the Chambersburg pike. Right and 
left through the thin woods, lines of sentinels keep watch and ward. 
Buford's lines are in a sweeping semicircle west and northwest a 
mile out from town, and well over Seminary Ridge ; his advance 
and pickets still farther out. At six in the morning gray-clad 
infantry come marching eastward along the pike. It is Heth's 
division moving up to support Pettigrew. Warned of the pres- 
ence of " Yanks," it halts and deploys into line of battle some 
distance west of Willoughby Run. Not until nine o'clock is the 
first gun fired. Then the opposing batteries of Northern horse 
and Southern light-artillery let drive at one another along 
the pike. Gettysburg has begun. Heth's lines sweep forward 
through the woods on the dismounted troopers of Devin and 
Gamble, Buford's brigade commanders; and for one mortal 
hour the plucky cavalrymen stand their ground, alone and un- 
supported. Buford hangs on in stern determination, but still 
hopefully: Reynolds is coming; and just at ten o'clock that 
superb soldier rides out on the field in full view of the Southern 
lines, and with him comes gray-haired old Wadsworth, leading 
his division, which, though composed of only two small brigades, 
is one of the best in the army. Quickly it deploys ; Cutler, a 
veteran "Badger" from Wisconsin, throwing his line facing west 
across the deep cut of an unfinished railway ; Meredith, of 
Indiana, forming on his left with the celebrated Iron Brigade. 
Eager hearts are beating in every breast. General Doubleday, 
too impatient to wait for his own division, has galloped forward, 
and Reynolds has placed him in charge of the left of the field. 



686 GETTYSBURG. 

Out to the front is a little cluster of trees extending up and down 
the run. Who shall have it? Archer of Heth's division, or 
Meredith with his Western boys ? " Forward and seize it," are 
Doubleday's orders, and away they go. Heth has four brigades 
to Wadsworth's two. The troopers are now farther to the north, 
between the Chambersburg pike and the road to Mummasburg. 
Their ammunition is well-nigh spent, and they must soon fall back. 
A new danger menaces those wearied cavalrymen. Long lines of 
gray-clad infantry emerge from the woods far to the north, and 
move steadily forward towards the right flank of the Union line.i 
By all that is desperate, Ewell has got back in time ! Those are 
the men of Rodes' division — too far away as yet to more than 
threaten ; but Reynolds sends urgent orders to Howard to hasten 
forward with the Eleventh corps and face them. Then, leaving 
to Wadsworth the care of the right, he gallops over just in time 
to see the Iron Brigade's rush upon Archer, who, with his brigade, 
has ventured across Willoughby Run to attack Cutler. The 
clump of woods is for the moment forgotten. The Second Wis- 
consin, led by its gallant colonel, Fairchild, heads the dash upon 
the enemy's flank, and General Archer and several hundred of 
his men are captured in the twinkling of an eye. Meantime the 
brigade of General Davis, nearly all Mississippians, has driven 
back Cutler's right, and many of them have got into that con- 
venient railway cut. The chance is too good to be lost. Before 
the Mississippians can straighten out, Cutler's three remaining 
regiments change front to the right, run to the edge of the cut, 
and have Davis and his men at their mercy. There is abso- 
lutely no way out of it but surrender, and surrender the Missis- 
sippians do — two full regiments with their battle-flags. So far 
so good. Wadsworth's division has covered itself with glory. 
Where is Reynolds now? Why is he not there to join in the 
ringing cheers and to heartily congratulate his gallant men ? 
Alas ! for Northern hearts this day. Yonder he lies — stone-dead 
— with a bullet through his brain. 

There is no time for repining. Doubleday takes com- 
mand, sends Cutler farther to the right, and himself places in 
position the divisions of Rowley and Robinson just marching 



DEATH OF THE GALLANT REYNOLDS. 687 

on the field. They come in the highest spirits, eager and 
enthusiastic. " Boys, we've come to stay," sings out Colonel 
Roy Stone, who leads the brigade at head of Rowley's column. 
" We've come to stay ! " shout the men, and the stirring words 
go cheerily down the ranks. 

Robinson's division is moved off northward to confront the 
coming lines of Ewell's men. For the time being, all is triumph. 
Robinson, swinging way out to Cutler's right, is so fortunate as 
to catch three North Carolina regiments napping, and they too 
go to swell the list of prisoners. No wonder the red or white 
balled caps* are tossed high in air, and the First corps is cheer- 
ing itself hoarse. Few of them know that at quarter-past ten 
their heroic leader met his soldier's death. 

But meantime the Southerners are far from idle. Pender's divi- 
sion has come up and reinforced General Hill, who, despite his ill- 
ness, had early galloped forward and assumed command. Rodes 
has deployed his entire line, and, advancing from the north, has 
taken the gallant First corps in flank. All told it is now not 
more than six thousand strong, and Doubleday is hard pressed. 
Six Southern batteries are thundering at him, and he has but 
three with which to respond. General Howard himself has 
arrived, and is in command of the field ; but his main anxiety 
appears to be that threatening cloud from the north, where 
Ewell's men can be seen in the distance forming their lines and 
preparing for a swoop. 

It is half-past one o'clock when the first division of the Elev- 
enth corps comes upon the field under General Barlow. It 
marches through Gettysburg, and is deployed north of the town 
facing Ewell. Then General Schurz's division arrives by another 
road, and is sent in between Robinson and Barlow, facing north. 
But General Howard retains Von Steinwehr and his division on the 
northern end of Cemetery Ridge, and Von Steinwehr, not liking 
the looks of things far to the north, sets his men to work at once 
building stone breastworks and fence-rail defences, gets his guns 
into position and waits; so does General Howard, who, from his 

* The ball or sphere was the badge of the First corps j Red for the First divi- 
sion : White for the Second. 



GETTYSBURG. 

somewhat elevated position two miles behind both his north and 
west facing lines, takes in the situation. Out on the north front, 
now, at two o'clock, Carl Schurz is in command, and he has but 
two divisions with which to hold as good as three, for yonder 
comes old Jubal Early with Ewell's second division, making 
eight strong brigades in all ; and now it is all up with Howard's 
dispositions. He has tried to cover too big a front with too 
small a force. Rodes makes a dash at the woody eminence 
opposite the junction of the First and Eleventh corps — Oak 
Hill, they call it. It is his almost without a shot. His batteries 
are promptly placed there. They enfilade a portion of the First 
corps line, and command the rest of the field. It is nearly three 
o'clock now, and the Eleventh corps is emphatically ill at ease. 
Then comes the inevitable charge and that ear-splitting, nerve- 
shaking " rebel yell." Look ! Out to the north, a mile beyond 
Gettysburg, the gray-clad lines come tearing down the slopes 
at Barlow's men. When did the Eleventh corps ever stand up 
against Stonewall Jackson, dead or alive? In vain gallant 
Barlow cheers and shouts and strives to hold them. Von 
Gilsa's men leave him for dead behind them in their disorderly 
flight. Rodes takes fire at the sight over there beyond the Car- 
lisle road. "Forward, boys! Sweep the Dutchmen into " 

well, we won't say where ; and just as at Chancellorsville, al- 
most without a shot, like so many sheep, these demoralized 
Teutons of Schimmelpfennig, Von Amsberg, Von Gilsa and 
Kryzanowski come tearing back for town — a rabble — a mob ; 
and the gallant First corps is left " out in the air." 

It is practically the end of the first day's battle. In vain 
General Howard gallops forward and strives to rally his shattered 
corps. No use. Out to the right front, all alone by itself, at 
half-past three o'clock, one little brigade is making manful stand. 
It is Ames with the Ohio men — the very same regiments that, 
under McLean, were the last to leave Bald Hill at Manassas, 
and the last to go at Chancellorsville ; but north and northwest 
all is flight and confusion: even the right of the First corps 
has crumbled away, and at four o'clock the army of the North is 
whipped. 



HANCOCK ON THE FIELD. 689 

Fortunate it is that Howard has left Von Steinwehr in reserve 
on the heights south of the town. Thither the fugitives direct 
their steps — those who succeed in escaping Early, who springs 
forward and secures 5,000 prisoners in the town ; and then, too, 
thank God ! Hancock has arrived. What Howard cannot do, 
he can. The magnetism of his presence, the calm force of his 
demeanor, revive the courage and command the respect of the 
troops. He has been sent forward by Meade to straighten 
things out and he does it. By five o'clock what is left of the 
Eleventh corps is aligned on Von Steinwehr at the northern 
end of the ridge. Later, Doubleday's men fall slowly, sullenly 
back across the valley, and are placed facing west on the left of 
the Eleventh — all but one division : the now shattered remnant of 
Wadsworth's command, that has fought so heroically all day 
long, is placed by General Hancock at Culp's Hill to the right 
of Von Steinwehr. Buford's wearied cavalry form in stern and 
forbidding front across the valley, where the open ground would 
permit of their charging anything that came along. Hill from 
the west, Ewell from the north, take a look at the new posi- 
tion, and conclude not to attack. General Lee has arrived in all 
haste and assumed command on his side. The Twelfth corps 
under General Slocum begins to file on to the plateau about six 
o'clock, and is placed in line to the left of Doubleday. With the 
loss of nearly ten thousand men to the Northern side, the first 
day's battle is over, and Hancock, his duty done, rides back to 
report to General Meade at Taneytown. 

It may be safely said that had Stonewall Jackson been there 
in command of his old corps, Culp's Hill would have been 
stormed, possibly carried, before sunset. As it is, the day closes 
with decided advantage to the Southern forces, but not all that it 
might have been. Two brigades of Heth's division are practi- 
cally used up, but he has two left. And now both commanders 
strain every nerve to bring up all their forces before the dawn of 

THE SECOND DAY. 

It is one o'clock in the morning when General Meade, after a 
moonlight ride from Taneytown, arrives at Cemetery Ridge and 



690 GETTYSBURG. 

proceeds to make an immediate inspection of the field. He has 
ordered forward the reserve artillery, called in the outlying 
cavalry of Kilpatrick's division, and directed the prompt con- 
centration on Gettysburg of all the infantry, in preparation for 
the struggle he knows must be on his hands with the coming 
day. This concentration is a most creditable piece of business 
to all concerned except the stragglers, for, despite the fact that 
some of the corps have to march nearly all night, and that most 
of the men arrive fatigued and little in the mood for battle, they 
are there on time, and not an hour is wasted. The Third corps, 
under Sickles, arrives early on the evening of the ist, except its 
rearmost division, which is in by sunrise. The Fifth corps after 
a long and rapid march reports its presence entire at nine o'clock 
on the morning of the 2d. The Second corps had been pur- 
posely halted near Taneytown " to cover the flank and commu- 
nications," but comes trudging in through the guns of the artil- 
lery long before dawn ; and the Sixth corps, young as many of 
its soldiers are, marches thirty-six miles from Manchester after 
getting its orders the evening of the ist, and is on the field in 
time for all the fighting, should it be called on. It arrives at 
two p. m. ^ 

At dawn on the 2d of July, General Meade has decided on 
an arrangement of his troops pretty much as follows : 

Beginning on his extreme right — the northeast face of Culp's 
Hill — he has there posted General Slocum with the Twelfth 
corps, as it is evident that Johnson's division of Ewell's corps 
means mischief there. Wadsworth, of the First corps, is moved 
a little to the left so as to connect with Ames' (yesterday Bar- 
low's) division of the Eleventh corps ; and to General Howard 
with that corps is assigned the general charge of the northern 
end of the Cemetery Ridge, which Ewell, with Early's and 
Rodes' divisions, is threatening. Robinson's division of the 
First corps is extended on the face of the ridge next to the left 
of Howard, and facing west. Doubleday, with his division, is 
in support of Howard, so that the First corps, the heroes of the 
first day's fight, and now commanded by General Newton, are 
somewhat scattered. When we speak of them as the heroes, it 



MEADE'S ARRANGEMENTS. 691 

must not be understood as ignoring Buford and his gallant 
troopers, who, perhaps, best of all deserve the honors of that 
day. 

The centre of the position, midway between the Round Tops 
and the northern end of the ridge, is occupied by the very 
men to hold it — the gallant Second corps, fresh and vigorous ; 
while General Sickles, with the Third corps, holds the left of 
the line. The Fifth corps, early in the day, is held in reserve. 
All along the crest the men are busily occupied constructing 
rude breastworks and shelters, while the batteries are run to the 
front and crowded into every available space. There is nowhere 
near room enough for half the guns. Oddly enough, no bat- 
tery, regiments or troops of any kind are sent to occupy the 
Round Tops, unless we except the signal men with their flags. 
It is an oversight that comes near being the ruin of the Army of 
the Potomac. 

On the other side, General Lee has during the night concen- 
trated all his troops except Stuart's cavalry and Pickett's division 
of Virginians. As these two organizations are perhaps the flower 
of the Southern army, it would seem as though the gallant gen- 
eral were severely " handicapped " from the start. 

And now, with a line five miles in length, sweeping way 
around from Rock Creek in front of Slocum, through Gettys- 
burg, then down Seminary Ridge until really beyond Round 
Top, with possibly sixty thousand men, the Southern leader is 
trying to encircle an army of greater size in a stronger position. 
More than that, he proposes to attack and beat them ; and it may 
be said right here, that that is General Lee's second great error. 
It is a desperate venture and not warranted by the situation ; and 
yet his army awaits the word in serene confidence that they 
are bound to win. The fact is that in the Army of Virginia there 
is up to this time, a feeling of contempt for the Army of the 
Potomac. 

Lee's army is placed as follows : Longstreet's corps on the 
right, with Hood's division opposite the Round Tops ; McLaws' 
opposite Sickles and the Third corps ; Hill's three divisions cov- 
ering the long centre, which extends along Seminary Ridge 



692 GETTYSBURG. 

from McLaws to Rodes ; Rodes mainly in Gettysburg ; Early 
and Johnson from the town to Rock Creek. The Southerners 
have one point in their favor : on this long line they can use 
their batteries to better advantage, and Pendleton, their chief of 
artillery, is no bad match for Hunt. 

Lee had, as we have seen, determined to attack — Meade, to 
await attack ; but almost the entire day passed in eying each 
other before an aggressive move is made, beyond the mere 
" tentative " of Early and Johnson the first thing in the morning 
at Gulp's Hill. It is four o'clock in the afternoon before the 
Southern general decides just where to strike and how to do it; 
but, when the blow comes, it comes fearfully near sweeping the 
cause of the Union to perdition, and this is how it happens: 

General Meade has been of the opinion all the morning that 
the attack in force would come on his right; that is, the northern 
face of Cemetery Ridge and of Culp's Hill. General Lee, after 
thorough reconnoissance of the lines, decides to assault pretty 
much as he did with Jackson at Chancellorsville, by enveloping 
the unprotected flank and " enfilading " the position. But he no 
longer has Jackson to conduct the move. In fact it is not even 
to be conducted by Jackson's successor, or any of old " Stone- 
wall's " men. Lee determines to reach around the Union left, 
seize the Round Tops and attack from the south, while Hill is 
to hold things steady in the centre, and Ewell is to keep the 
troops in his front so busy as to prevent their slipping off to 
assist the corps of General Sickles, on whom the brunt of the 
attack will fall. To Longstreet is confided the arrangement of 
this assault on the Union left, and Longstreet is very long in 
getting ready. It is said of him that he disapproves the plan 
and is unwilling to undertake it ; and yet, thanks to the error of 
General Sickles, no plan could have been better. 

It so happens that just north of the " tops " and south of the 
well-defined portion of Cemetery Ridge, occupied by Hancock's 
corps, the ground flattens out, so to speak ; the ridge is lost in 
the undulations ; whereas, out in the valley proper, out beyond 
the wheat-field, and fully half of a mile from Little Round Top, 
there is a perceptible ridge along which runs the Emmetsburg 



LONGSTREET ASSAULTS LITTLE ROUND TOP. 693 

pike. General Sickles takes the responsibility of pushing out 
there with his whole corps, placing Humphreys' division on the 
pike, Graham's brigade on its left as far as the peach orchard, 
and the rest of Birney's division " refused," as the expression is, 
and stretching back through low, scantily wooded ground 
toward the Round Tops. In this disposition of his line he 
thrusts an elbow, so to speak, squarely in the face of Long- 
street's position, showing two lines, either of which can be 
" enfiladed," raked or swept by the Southern guns. The peach 
orchard is at the elbow, and not more than half a mile from the 
ranks of gray-clad infantry lying prone among the trees of 
Seminary Ridge. It is shortly after two o'clock when Sickles 
moves out and takes this position. General Meade, busied with 
his staff-officers at headquarters back of Hancock's corps, never 
hears of it, or discovers it until four o'clock, when he himself 
rides out to see what is going on towards the left. Just what 
the general's sensations are it is impossible to assert; but it is 
too late to remedy the error. Even as he urges his horse out 
toward the point where fluttering guidons indicate the position 
of General Sickles, with one simultaneous crash and bellow 
Longstreet's batteries open on the devoted lines of Humphreys 
and Birney. Meade can only send back to the plateau in all 
haste for his old pets, the Fifth corps, and back up Sickles in 
his blunder. 

Then comes the thrilling moment of the assault. Not in front 
— not facing east upon Humphreys and Graham — but issuing 
from the woods to the south, Hood's whole division in long gray 
lines comes charging with its half-savage yell upon the " refused " 
brigades of De Trobriand and Ward. On they come, two solid 
brigades of Georgians, another in support; while way off to the 
southeast, lapping far around the left of Birney's line, never 
halting to fire, never uttering a sound, strange to say ; pay- 
ing no attention to anything to the right or left, but in eager 
column, with desperate purpose, arms at right-shoulder, mounted 
officers at the trot, line officers and the sturdy rank and file at 
double-quick, a fourth brigade is dashing straight at Little Round 
Top — at Little Round Top, the key-point of the whole position, 



694 GETTYSBURG. 

the spot which commands every inch of the lines ; the bulwark, 
that, once gained and held, will enable Lee to drive the North- 
ern army from its stronghold ; and there it stands defenceless, 
vvhile Robertson and his daring Texans, Hood's " chargers," 
and Law with his Alabama men, are nearing it at every 
jump. 

Great Heaven ! is there no one to see it ? — no one to meet 
this mortal thrust and turn it back ? The signal-men are already 
taking alarm and preparing to leave. Out to the front all is 
now uproar and excitement, for Longstreet has launched in his 
whole command ; McLaws is hammering at Humphreys and 
charging Graham at the peach orchard. Meade, all anxiety for 
his exposed Third corps, can see nothing but what is going on 
around him. The Fifth corps is pushing hastily out to the 
front. Barnes' division is hurrying forward down the slope. 
Every man seems full of eagerness to go and help Sickles. No 
•one further up the line towards Hancock can see what is coming 
down there beyond the rocky heights. Five minutes more and 
all would have been up with the Northern army for that day at 
least, perhaps for good and all ; all might have been lost but for 
one man, that clear-headed, sharp-eyed, brilliant engineer War- 
ren. He has caught sight of the frantic signals of the flagmen 
on the height. He it is who spurs thither in eager haste, forces 
his panting horse up among the rocks and boulders, reaches the 
crest and sees, scarce five hundred yards away, those dense 
columns of gray-clad infantry swarming at him up the glen. 
God of battles! what a sight! Quick as a flash — quick almost 
as his own thought, he wheels his horse, tears down the slope to 
the north, and dashes at the flank of the Fifth corps, rapidly 
filing by. " This way, this way, Vincent," he shouts to the 
brigade commander nearest him. " Up there with you quick as 
you can — up every man of you ! " and, leading the way, hur- 
riedly pointing out the new danger, he sends the brigade scram- 
bling up the rocks. They have not even time to load. Then he 
gallops to Hazlett's battery, and shouts to the leading regiment 
of Weed's fine brigade. It is the One Hundred and Fortieth 
New York, " Pat O'Rorke's boys." " Get those guns up, any- 



BOTH SIDES FIGHT LIKE DEMONS. 695 

how — anyhow ! Carry them on your shoulders if you have to, 
but get them up / " and with might and main the guns are lifted 
shoved, dragged, by straining arms and panting breasts. Four 
heroic young West Pointers are urging on the work — Warren, 
Weed, O'Rorke and Hazlett; and just in the nick of time they 
gain the summit; quick the gunners spring in with lanyard and 
canister; quick the black muzzles are trained on the surging 
masses of gray; the flash and roar follow instanter; gun after 
gun barks its challenge, but Alabama and Texas are already at 
our gates, and in hand-to-hand conflict, panting, half-exhausted 
with their long and rapid run, they are clenched with Vincent's 
brigade.. Never as yet during the war has there been such a 
sight, such a struggle. Bayonets, swords, clubbed muskets, 
rocks and stones, even fists, are brought into play. Knowing 
the importance of the position, both sides fight like demons, and 
the Texans, never before checked, keep swarming forward as 
though nothing could stop them. Even as the foremost ranks 
are grappling foot to foot, the rearmost regiments, finding it im- 
possible to get in anywhere, scale the sides of Round Top 
across the Devil's Den, and from there, open a rapid fire on their 
opponents, over the heads of their friends. Vincent has foui- 
regiments— the Sixteenth Michigan, Forty-fourth New York 
(Ellsworth avengers), Eighty-third Pennsylvania and Twentieth 
Maine. Every section of the North is represented in the defence 
of the vital point. All are hotly engaged ; fire-arms are speedily 
resumed, and some attempt is made at forming line. Off to the 
right, gallant Pat O'Rorke, the Buffalo Irishman, who graduated 
head of his class at " the Point," cheers his men into position, 
shouts at them some enthusiastic words that few can hear, and 
then with flashing sword leads them in charge down the 
slope upon the Texan lines. General Weed, so loved through- 
out the army, calls up the rest of his brigade, and, after half an 
hour's desperate and bloody work, the position is safe. But at 
what a cost ! 

Vincent, the gallant brigade commander who first sprang to 
meet the Texan rush, lies prone in death. O'Rorke, charging 
at the head of his men, is instantly killed. Noble-hearted Weed, 



696 GETTYSBURG. 

mortally wounded, is breathing his last messages to Hazlett, 
when the latter, bending over his loved friend and chief, is him- 
self shot dead; and everywhere, right and left, through the rocks 
and boulders, lie the blue-clad forms of the Northern soldiery. 
Little Round Top, the key-point, is saved; but the blood of 
heroes pours down its rocky sides. 

Meantime there has been the very mischief to pay out in 
front across the valley. Directly in front of Little Round Top, 
separated from it only by the narrow rivulet of Plum Run now 
curdling red through this veritable Devil's Den, lies another 
rocky and wooded eminence. From this vantage point out 
through the open wheat-field, thence to the " peach orchard," 
and thence northward along the Emmetsburg pike, there has 
been going on one terrific and incessant struggle. All the 
lower valley is now so obscured with smoke that but little of the 
combatants can be seen, but after an hour's desperate struggle the 
eight regiments of the Third corps holding the peach orchard, the 
key-point of the position in the valley, are forced back by the 
united efforts of the divisions of McLaws and Anderson; so too 
are the Fifth corps brigades of Tilton and Sweitzer; so too are 
McGilvray's light batteries that retire firing as they go. Long- 
street has burst through the very centre and threatened the 
divisions of Humphreys on the left flank and what is left of 
Birney's on the right. General Sickles himself is severely 
wounded and borne to the rear for the amputation of his leg. 
Humphreys swings back from the pike in perfect order — his two 
regular batteries, Turnbull's and Seeley's, and Randolph's Rhode 
Island guns, trotting back to the new line as unconcernedly as 
though death were anywhere but at their heels. General Graham 
is wounded and taken prisoner. Caldwell's division of Han- 
cock's corps comes down to help strengthen the new centre. 
Cross, Kelly, Zook and Brooke are the four brigade com- 
manders. Cross and Kelly are hurried to the support of De 
Trobriand, who is now almost exhausted and being charged by 
the fresh troops of Kershaw ; and gallant Cross, who has won 
such distinction on many a field as to be a noted man and one 
marked for speedy promotion, is shot dead while cheering on 



HANCOCK'S COUNTERCHARGE. 697 

his men. Zook meets his death-wound but a few moments 
later, and Brooke, even while driving the enemy before him, is 
shot down, severely injured. Caldwell's division is used up 
almost as quick as it comes, and Ayres' fine brigade of regulars, 
attacked in front, flank and rear at the same instant, has to 
fight its way back towards Little Round Top. Verily on the 
left Hood has carried all before him — except that height. And 
on the right, Hill has advanced ; Humphreys is driven back. 
Hancock has been sent down by Meade to take command of the 
Third corps as well as his own, the Twelfth corps is hurried 
to the spot by General Meade himself, and with these reinforce- 
ments a determined stand is at last made close under the ridge. 
The last daring charge of Hill's men is met by a vigorous 
countercharge under Hancock. Barksdale, of Mississippi, is left 
mortally wounded within the Union lines ; and, farther to the left, 
the Pennsylvanians under Crawford having made a vigorous 
sally, the wearied troops of Longstreet fall back across the 
wheat-field they had won, and darkness closes upon the scene. 

Ewell's attack on Culp's and Cemetery Hill has been suc- 
cessful in so far that he gains the intrenchments on the extreme 
right, and scares half to death the previously demoralized portion 
of the Eleventh corps on the left. But in front of Wadsworth 
and Carroll he is whipped back with heavy loss. This ends the 
fighting of the second day; and once again, take it all in all, the 
Southern side is uppermost, for Meade's losses by sunset on the 
2d of July are equal to those of the first day— another 10,000; 
making, in all, 20,000 men, killed, wounded and missing. 

It is a black night, however, for both sides. Such heavy losses 
have a depressing effect, and the Southern troops, accustomed 
hitherto to carry everything before them at first onset, are a 
trifle stunned at the resistance they have encountered during 
the day. 

Nevertheless, with Ewell's men securely lodged in the Union 
intrenchments way around by Rock Creek, and with Sickles' 
corps whipped back to the ridge, General Lee is hopeful that 
on the morrow he can complete the work, and crush his 
enemy. 

44 



698 GETTYSBURG. 

With General Meade there seems to have been deep anxiety. 
At one time during the afternoon things look so threatening 
that he has sent General Pleasanton to gather up the reserve 
artillery, the cavalry, etc., and look after the lines of retreat. 
There is a prospect of the enemy's sweeping round the Union 
left, and cutting off communication with Washington. That 
evening, however, he summons his principal generals in council 
and propounds three questions : 

I st. " Under existing circumstances, is it advisable for this army 
to remain in its present position, or to retire to another near its 
base of supplies?" 

2d. " It being determined to remain in the present position, 
shall the army attack, or wait the attack of the enemy?" 

3d. " If we wait attack, how long? " 

There are present Generals Slocum, Sedgwick, Hancock, 
Howard, Newton, Sykes, Birney, A. S. Williams and Gibbon. 
In answering the questions the junior officer, Gibbon, votes 
first. One and all are of the same opinion, winding up with 
Slocum's emphatic " Stay and fight it out," and General Meade, 
as though gratified at a unanimity so much in accord with his 
own wishes, promptly announces, "That, then, gentlemen, is the 
decision." 

In the confident expectation that Lee will again attack on the 
coming day, all preparations are made to meet him. Meantime 
all, who can, lie down along the lines and sleep until the ringing 
reveille that ushers in the morning of 

THE THIRD DAY. 

The very earliest gray of morning reveals a change in the 
dispositions on both sides over on the right at Culp's Hill. 
Johnson's men of Ewell's corps have been heavily strengthened 
during the night, and Meade has been far from idle. Several 
light batteries have been moved over opposite the intrenchments 
to which the plucky Virginians are clinging. The whole Twelfth 
corps is sent over from near the Round Tops, and the moment 
it is light enough to see, every gun opens, and shell and case- 
shot go whirring and banging into the thick underbrush, and 



LEE ATTACKS THE UNION CENTRE. 699 

there is not a Southern gun there to reply. For some time this 
shelling is carried on; then the divisions of Williams and Geary 
make a spirited assault, and, for five mortal hours, a deadly strug- 
gle goes on along the banks of Rock Creek. Shaler's brigade 
of the Sixth corps takes part, and the Northern army is able to 
send in very heavy masses of troops against Johnson's men, 
among whom is the old Stonewall brigade. At last, between 
ten and eleven o'clock, the slopes are cleared of Southern sol- 
diers, the position is retaken, held and strengthened, and Meade 
turns his eyes westward to see what Lee will do next. 

Foiled in his hopes of strengthening Johnson and attacking 
from the north, General Lee adopts the one plan he considers 
left to him, that of making a furious assault on the Union centre, 
piercing it, and hurling the army apart. It is a tremendous 
undertaking, but he feels that it must be done, and is moderately 
hopeful. As a prelude, and in order to sweep the opposite crest 
as much as possible, General Lee causes to be stationed at 
every available point along Seminary Ridge his most powerful 
batteries, until by noon he has one hundred and forty-five guns 
in position. Most of these are half hidden in the trees at the foot 
of the ridge, but many are pushed boldly out to the Emmets- 
burg pike, behind which, lying down in the broiling sun, are 
many brigades of Southern troops " waiting for orders." Mean- 
time on Cemetery Ridge General Hunt has not been idle. Two 
regular batteries now crown Little Round Top. Next, farther 
north, come the batteries of Major McGilvray; then those under 
command of Captain Hazzard, and finally the batteries of the First 
and Eleventh corps farther north — eighty guns in all, General 
Hunt is able to plant in front of the infantry or between the 
brigades along the crest, for he well knows that a desperate 
atttack is coming. 

. Before it comes, however, a brilliant though fruitless struggle 
is destined to take place way down to the south of the Round 
Tops. There the cavalry of General Kilpatrick, with Graham's 
and Elder's horse-batteries, find themselves confronting a few 
cavalry skirmishers and some infantry regiments of Hood's 
corps. The woods are thick. They cannot tell just what is in 



700 GETTYSBURG. 

front of them, but Merritt has his regulars, and Farnsworth twc 
fine regiments of volunteer horse. They are not the men to 
stand idly by, and, seeing what they suppose to be a good 
opportunity to dash in on the rear of Hood's main line, they 
charge. Farnsworth, sabre in hand, leaps a fence in front of 
him, and, followed by his two regiments, dashes through the 
fields beyond, sabring the skirmishers whom they find there, 
and pressing impetuously onward to the very guns of the South- 
ern batteries, they find themselves well-nigh surrounded by in- 
fantry. Here gallant Farnsworth and many of his men are 
killed, others taken prisoners ; and as for Merritt's regular brig- 
ade, they speedily find the woods in their front crammed with 
riflemen, and utterly inaccessible for cavalry, despite the daring 
and vigorous attempts made to carry them. 

And now come the preparations for the grand closing attack 
— the final effort. In many of its features one is reminded of 
the last charge of Ney and the Old Guard at Waterloo. 

During the morning there has arrived in rear of the cen- 
tre of the Southern line the superb division of General Pickett, 
comprising the brigades of Kemper, Armistead and Garnett, all 
Virginians; and this devoted command is designated by General 
Lee to lead the van. In compliance with his orders, Pickett 
moves his division out in the open, midway between the Emmets- 
burg pike and the Seminary Ridge. There, with Kemper and 
Garnett in the first line, and Armistead forming the second, the 
men are to lie down and await the result of the cannonade soon 
to begin. To support Pickett in the great task before him 
General Lee draws upon Hill's corps, the only troops that have 
not yet been heavily engaged in the battle itself. Wilcox's 
brigade is ordered to move on Pickett's right, and six brigades 
of the divisions of Anderson and Pender are designated to 
attack simultaneously on his left, Pettigrevv commanding their 
leading line. General Pickett also understands that two or three 
light batteries are to assist upon his flanks, moving forward with 
him. The troops move in silence to their assigned positions, 
and the entire command, now numbering 15,000 men, is placed, 
for the time being, under the orders of General Longstreet ; and 



SIXSCORE CANNON OPEN FIRE. 701 

right here it must be said that Longstreet is ominously op- 
posed to the whole plan. He cannot bring himself to act 
heartily in carrying out the orders of his chief. He has every 
fear that the attempt will prove suicidal, and for once in his life 
at least, Lee's staunch lieutenant must be said to have " hung 
fire." At one o'clock the report is brought to him that all is 
ready, the different brigades in their assigned positions — Pickett 
and Wilcox out towards the pike, Pettigrew and Anderson farther 
back among the trees of the ridge. The point designated by 
General Lee on which to direct the attack is a jutting knob of 
Cemetery Ridge occupied by Hancock's corps, immediately 
behind which are Meade's headquarters. At one o'clock, down 
to the right of the lines of Lee, there boom forth at one minute's 
interval two guns from the Washington artillery of New 
Orleans. It is the signal to begin, and in one terrific burst of 
thunder, the sixscore cannon open fire on Cemetery Ridge, 
and a flight of death-dealing shells whirls shrieking across the 
valley. Thus begins the most stunning, deafening cannonade 
ever heard on this continent. Fast as they can load and aim 
the Southern gunners ply their work, and the eager eyes of 
their leaders follow the effect of the fire. But on the Union 
side all is still : crouching behind their breastworks, lying flat on 
the ground, the Northern infantry seek shelter from the terrible 
storm ; the battery men lie prone around their guns impatiently 
waiting for the word, the horses are run off far to the rear ; 
all eyes are on General Hunt, who, cool and imperturbable 
amid the flying fragments of the shells, stands scanning the 
positions of the Southern guns. Full fifteen minutes he waits, 
then comes a quick signal to Hazzard ; the bugles ring out, 
"commence firing;" up jump the cannoneers, and in one 
grand roar the whole line from Round Top to the right bursts 
into flame. The cannonade is indescribable; men are so deafened 
and stunned by it that many are semi-paralyzed, and hundreds 
can hear no word of command for days afterwards. More than 
two hundred guns are banging away all at once, and if anything, 
the Southerners are having the best of it. Flying over the crest, 
their shells plunge back on the plateau among the reserve bat- 



702 GETTYSBURG. 

teries, the wagons, the various headquarters, and play havoc 
everywhere except on the crest itself, where the infantry is lying 
dowii. Then, too, a light wind from the northeast blows all the 
smoke down into the valley, and completely hides it from 
the Northern gunners, who are thus compelled to fire very 
much at random, while the Southern gunners simply keep the 
range they had learned early in the cannonade. But they make 
one great mistake. Instead of concentrating their fire on Han- 
cock, where the great attack is to be made, they scatter it along 
the whole line. At last the fire slowly slackens. The word is 
passed that the Union batteries are silenced or out of ammuni- 
tion. It does not seem to occur to Colonel Alexander that the 
wily Hunt may only be suppressing his batteries in order to draw 
on the attack he is so ready and eager to meet. " Now is your 
time, Pickett," is the purport of the message that reaches that 
gallant general, and he, galloping to Longstreet, asks if he shall 
now advance; but Longstreet, torn by conflicting emotions, his 
duty to Lee and his own conviction that nothing but disaster 
can result, will not give the word that is to launch his magnifi- 
cent division to destruction ; but Pickett knows the orders of the 
general-in-chief. He waits one moment: then, saluting, says, 
" General, I am about to lead my division to the attack," and 
Longstreet in silent agony of mind simply bows his head. It is 
the order. It must be done. 

And now, under a blazing July sun that has already stricken 
down many unwounded men, Pickett gallops to the front, and 
the ringing word of command resounds and is taken up along the 
lines. Virginia springs to her feet ; the ranks are dressed ; the 
battle-flags are advanced. Forward is the word, and in disci- 
plined silence, in beautiful order, the Virginia division moves to 
the front. At the same instant the brigades of Hill to the left 
spring to arms, and move forward from the sheltering woods. 
To attain the point indicated by General Lee, Pickett has to 
move full half a mile to his left, up the valley towards Gettys- 
burg, and nothing can exceed the calm steadiness in which the 
manceuvre is executed. Friend and foe alike burst into shouts 
of admiration. The instant the lines reach the Emmetsburg pike 



DAUNTLESS BEARING OF PICKETT'S MEN. 705 

the Northern guns reopen and hurl case-shot and canister upon 
the gray-clad ranks, but with no more effect in stopping them 
than if they were firing blank cartridges. At last they reach the 
point directly in front of Hancock, Armistead presses forward 
and aligns his brigade between those of Kemper and Garnett; 
and now, gentlemen of Virginia, forward it is in earnest. Off to 
the left, animated by the dauntless bearing of Pickett's men, the 
troops of Pettigrew and Anderson are coming gallantly forward, 
but Wilcox is unaccountably slow. He is too far back on the 
right, and Kemper is " uncovered " towards the south. The 
guns along Cemetery Ridge blaze in perfect fury; fresh bat- 
teries are run up; canister is fairly rained upon the matchless 
advance ; but, closing in their gaps, dressing on the centre, ever 
directing their march upon that jutting knoll of Hancock's, 
calmly, with solid tramp, tramp, even slower than quick time, 
those glorious soldiers come on. They are within five hundred 
yards. Pettigrew on their left is urging his North Carolinians up 
on line with their leading rank. Armistead, afoot now, with his 
hat on the point of his sword, is waving on his men ; for at this 
instant Stannard's Vermont regiments, thrown forward in a little 
clump of trees south of the point of attack, open a rapid mus- 
ketry fire on the right flank of Kemper's lines, and they cannot 
help edging a little to the left. McGilvray's batteries too are 
hurling canister obliquely across the slope, and the gray uni- 
forms are dropping by scores ; but still the battle-flags wave in 
.front, and the steady advance continues. The batteries before 
them have fired away nearly all their canister and never checked 
them; and now the men of Gibbon's and Hay's divisions grasp 
tighter their muskets for the coming volley. " Remember 
Fredericksburg," some men pass the word along the line. 
Nearer and nearer come the Virginians, and still not a musket- 
shot is heard on the crest. At last, as they get within three hun- 
dred yards, one simultaneous volley bursts from the rifles of the 
Second corps, one terrific, sweeping volley before which hun- 
dreds go down like ten-pins. It is more than the North Caro- 
linians can stand; they waver, break and run, leaving many bat- 
tle-flags, and hundreds of prisoners in Hancock's hands. Not 



706 GETTYSBURG. 

bo Virginia. With one triumphant yell they burst from the 
serried, ranks, and, still shouting like demons, the brigades of 
Kemper, Armistead and Garnett, all alone and unsupported at 
the moment, dash at the crest and come tearing up the slope in 
a vast gray surging wave. In vain the blue lines blaze with fire. 
Nothing will stop them. Three Pennsylvania regiments man 
the low wall right in front of Armistead, and such is the impetus 
of Pickett's grand up-hill rush that the Pennsylvanians are rolled 
over and driven back, and Armistead leading, leaps in among the 
guns of Cushing's battery — gallant little Cushing, mortally 
Wounded already, yet demanding the right to die among the 
guns he has fought so well ; and die he does, another bullet 
striking him just as Armistead reaches his side, and is himself 
prostrated in death beside the young commander whom he was 
about to order, surrender. With frantic yells of triumph the 
Southerners swarm through the battery and the Rhode Island 
guns on its left, while Kemper's men and Garnett's, pushing for- 
ward, hurl themselves on the second line. But watchful Han- 
cock and his energetic Gibbon have rushed up additional troops; 
brave "Andy" Webb has rallied the Pennsylvanians. Whole 
brigades and regiments come running to the scene; a perfect 
death-storm breaks on the devoted Virginians now hemmed in 
on three sides ; Garnett is killed ; Armistead dying; Kemper is 
borne to the rear severely wounded ; the battle-flags are shot to 
earth quicker than men can pick them up, and still these heroic 
Virginians hold the ground. Then the surrounding regiments 
advance their stars and stripes; four-deep the blue ranks crowd 
about their hapless foes ; the wall of fire is broader and deeper, 
and at last the bleeding remnant throws itself upon the ground, 
the battle-flags are all humbled in the dust. Pickett, making 
his unhappy way back through the friendly smoke across the 
valley, finds that he has left to him, of the twenty-two officers of 
rank, and five thousand men, who went in with him as his own 
division, just one lieutenant-colonel and perhaps five hundred sol- 
diers. Ney, Cambronne and the Old Guard at Waterloo were not 
more superb ; but, as Longstreethad feared, the glorious division 
of Virginia is annihilated. On its left, Pettigrew has come up with 



HANCOCK MASTER OF THE SITUATION. 707 

his partially rallied troops, and the brigades of Scales and Archer, 
only to meet a fate almost as bad. Fortunately for him and his, 
they do not break the first line and so get into a trap ; but they 
are desperately whipped. Hancock has taken forty-five hun- 
dred prisoners and twenty-seven battle-flags. A few broken and 
dispirited regiments drift back through the smoke, and are 
rallied by sad-hearted Lee and Longstreet on Seminary Ridge. 
Wilcox comes up and makes an abortive assault in front of the 
batteries of McGilvray ; but those active Vermonters of Stannard 
take him too in flank and he is hurled back with loss of several 
hundred men. The battle of Gettysburg is over. 

Even in that last charge of Pickett's, his Virginians in their 
heroic fight have done much damage. Many officers and men 
are killed and wounded while battling with them for the crest. 
Among the wounded are Hancock and Gibbon, who have been 
so energetic ; but nothing can compensate the Southern army 
for the terrible losses it has sustained. It has fought with superb 
and devoted bravery. It has been unable to drive the Army of 
the Potomac from its strong position. Its best and bravest have 
gone down in the desperate attempt; but all the same it is still 
so disciplined, so united that General Meade wisely decides to 
let well alone and " push things " no farther that day. He has 
been blamed for not making a general assault, at once, on Lee's 
position on Seminary Ridge ; but the issue would have been 
very doubtful. Some years ago, General Longstreet told the 
writer that Hood and McLaws, and the whole Southern artillery, 
'were in readiness to give him the warmest kind of reception in 
case Meade made the attempt ; so that night of the 3d of July 
was spent as though a truce had been sounded. The next day 
the rain-storm that inevitably follows a great battle came up. 
General Lee moved his trains, his guns and his wounded slowly 
and deliberately back to Cumberland valley, and thence towards 
Williamsport on the Potomac. He followed with his army in a 
day, slowly and with impressive dignity ; but his cavalry leaped 
forward, seized the bridges and the ground commanding them. 
Floods prevented his crossing. He fortified his position, and, 
when Meade came up in pursuit, the very generals, who had 



708 GETTYSBURG. 

counselled fight at Gettysburg, shook their heads at the defiant 
front presented by that unconquerable Army of Virginia. It 
was then that General Halleck, eager to have the work finished, 
telegraphed that "councils of war never fight;" and the Presi- 
dent expressed his deep regret that Lee was allowed to get away. 
But get away he did, and safely too. On the 15th of July the 
army of the South was all back again on the " sacred soil" — all 
but what was left at Gettysburg. 

Of the losses in this "battle of the giants," an exact estimate can 
be given only of the Army of the Potomac, which suffered : 2,834 
killed, 13,733 wounded, 6,643 missing — an aggregate of 23,190. 
The army of General Lee lost 14,000 prisoners, and probably 
15,000 killed and wounded at lowest estimate. 

On the 4th of July, the day after the battle, the Army of the Po- 
tomac and that of the West exchanged hearty congratulations, for 
Vicksburg fell before General Grant, and the combined victories 
served to give to all loyal hearts in the North a thrill of hope, a 
fervent glow of gratitude, such as had not been known since the 
beginning of the long and cruel war. The tide at last had 
turned, but not until Virginia had ridden on the topmost wave 
and been dashed on the rocks of Gettysburg. 




GENERAL U. S. GRANT. 



NASHVILLE. 




1864. 

HE year 1863 had been full of disaster for the 
South, or rather for the cause of its leaders. 
The trivial successes gained in Virginia were 
more than neutralized by the great blow of 
Gettysburg, while the fall of Vicksburg had re- 
manded to the control of the North the whole 
course of the Mississippi river. Then there 
were two proclamations by the President of the 
United States that had all the moral effect of 
additional victories for the national arms — the emancipation of 
the slaves, and the amnesty offered to all armed insurgents under 
certain of the highest grades. The year 1864 began with every 
prospect of a speedy ending of the war of the rebellion, but the 
South seemed as hopeful, resolute and energetic as ever. Abroad, 
her statesmen were enjoined to represent her as rapidly nearing 
her final triumph, and so material aid kept coming in from 
England and from France. At home, her government cheered 
the people by promises of speedy satisfaction for the heavy losses 
of '63, and more rigorously enforced its conscription of able- 
bodied citizens to ensure it. 

In the North all was high hope and confidence. Three great 
generals, who had risen to prominence and won resounding 
applause on western battle-fields, had been placed at the head 
of the armies of the Union, and of these men great things were 
expected. First was General U. S. Grant, whose dogged reso- 
lution, persistence, and keen knowledge of soldiers and soldier- 
ing had enabled him to win battle after battle, and finally to 
gain the crowning triumphs of Vicksburg and Chattanooga, and 

711 



712 NASHVILLE. 

who now appeared in the east as lieutenant-general command- 
ing the armies of the United States, supplanting Halleck, who 
remained at the capital as chief of staff. Second was Major- 
General W. T. Sherman, whose tireless energy and brilliant at- 
tainments had made him Grant's right hand man and most 
trusted lieutenant. To him was now intrusted the chief command 
of the armies in the west. Third was General Philip H. Sheri- 
dan, who had won universal praise and admiration for the dash 
and vigor with which he handled an infantry division; and when 
General Grant, reaching Washington, had his first interview with 
the President, the secretary of war, and General Halleck, and 
announced to them that the Army of the Potomac must have a 
general to reorganize and command its entire cavalry, General 
Halleck asked, " How would Sheridan do ? " " The very man," 
said General Grant, and Sheridan forthwith, and very much to 
his disgust at first, was transferred from the Army of the Cum- 
berland to the Army of the Potomac. With Grant, Meade and 
Sheridan in Virginia, it was believed that the gallant army of 
General Lee would soon be penned within the walls of Rich- 
mond ; and with Sherman, Thomas, McPherson and Schofield 
in the west, it was believed that there the confederacy would be 
cut in two. 

In the Army of the Potomac there had been much discord and 
jealousy, as we have seen. In the armies of the west there was 
unanimity, and high spirit of cordiality towards the present 
commanders. Of course there had been the same experiments 
with various generals in high commands, which had been sol 
marked a feature of the first two years of the war in the east. 
Generals Don Carlos Buell, Rosecrans and Halleck had all 
commanded in the field south of Kentucky, and had failed to 
satisfy the demands of the public or the government, but the 
leaders and the men had pulled together with a will, and now, 
early in '64, it was the intention of General Grant that the 
armies east and west should act in concert, and no longer be 
" like a balky team," as he characteristically expressed it. Early 
in the spring, he and Sherman moved simultaneously — Grant 
qn Richmond, Sherman on Atlanta. General Lee successfully 



SHERMAN "MARCHING TO THE SEA." 713 

defended the approaches to his capital, and forced Grant to halt 
before the walls of Petersburg ; but nothing could stop Sherman, 
who, on the 2d of September, had taken Atlanta. 

Things looked desperate for the South, but the people were 
as brave, the leaders as daring as ever. Jefferson Davis hurried 
westward to revive the spirit and hopes of the people ; pointed 
out to them that, though Sherman had succeeded in reaching 
and seizing Atlanta, he was in a very critical position. His sole 
line of supplies was a long single-track railway that was liable 
to be cut in a thousand places. It had to be heavily guarded, 
and, running through hostile territory for 300 miles, it could 
not be relied upon. Mr. Davis urged all absent or skulking 
soldiers to return to their colors, promised that Sherman should 
be driven back in a retreat as disastrous as Napoleon's from 
Moscow, and that the armies of the South should march jubi- 
lantly to the Ohio. He had most injudiciously removed General 
Joseph E. Johnston from the command of the army in Georgia, 
and assigned in his place a daring and brilliant soldier, General 
John B. Hood ; and, giving the latter instructions to cut Sher- 
man's communications everywhere and prepare to march north- 
ward, and promising him that strong forces should join him 
from west of the Mississippi, Mr. Davis went back to Richmond, 
leaving General Hood to carry out his orders. 

Hood was active and energetic. He aimed blow after blow 
at the railway, and sent his cavalry raiding all along the lines, 
giving General Sherman much uneasiness, but never for once 
breaking his hold on Atlanta. No, General Sherman had re- 
solved on a glorious move. All he needed was a reliable man 
to hold the States of Tennessee and Kentucky against any north- 
ward march of the Southern army in his absence, and he chose 
the right man when he named for this important trust Major- 
General George H. Thomas. 

Taking the very best of the combined armies of the Tennessee, 
the Ohio and the Cumberland, with him, General Sherman swung 
loose from Atlanta late in the fall on his never-to-be-forgotten 
march to the sea, leaving General Thomas with a very mixed 
command to defend the line of the Tennessee against the south. 



714 NASHVILLE. 

" I will send back into Tennessee the Fourth corps," wrote 
General Sherman ; " all dismounted cavalry ; all sick and wounded 
and all incumbrances whatever," and on the 26th of October he 
issued formal orders placing General Thomas in command of 
the Military Division of the Mississippi during his absence, 
headquarters to be at Nashville. 

On October 31st General Stanley, with the Fourth corps, 
was ordered to concentrate at Pulaski in southern Tennessee, 
and General Schofield with his command was ordered to move 
from Resaca, Georgia, towards Columbia, Tennessee, a little , 
town on the Nashville and ^Decatur railway, about thirty miles 
north of Pulaski, for it was now apparent that General Hood 
with a powerful army intended crossing the Tennessee and ad- 
vancing by this line upon Nashville. 

It was late in the autumn; the rivers were low; the gunboats 
could not reach the threatened crossings of the Tennessee. 
General Forrest, a born cavalry leader, with some 6,000 troopers, 
was raiding along the railway and the river, and General Thomas 
had no horsemen to send against him. In order that his own 
cavalry might be well mounted for the march to the sea, Gen- 
eral Sherman had taken most of the serviceable horses of the 
western armies and sent back to Thomas only cavalrymen in 
name. They arrived at Nashville by brigades and regiments, 
afoot, and had to be remounted before becoming available for 
field service. 

In plain words, the task allotted to General Thomas was to 
improvise an army with which to repel a bold invasion that 
Would carry ruin and desolation with it if not checked. General 
Hood's army was strong, compact and admirably led. It con- 
sisted of three divisions of infantry under Cheatham, S. D. Lee 
and Stewart, at least 40,000 strong, and of some 10,000 cavalry 
under their renowned leader, Forrest. Hood himself we have 
seen before in command of the Texans at Manassas and Gettys- 
burg; a braver man probably never lived, and as a division com- 
mander he had no superior in the South. As a general com- 
manding an army he had been but a short time before the 
people, and having been designated to supersede a favorite officer, 



HOOD'S NAPOLEONIC IDEA. 715 

J. E. Johnston, he could not at once command the entire sym- 
pathy of the army. But he was admired and respected. His 
righting qualities none could question. Gettysburg had ruined 
an arm for him; Chickamauga had robbed him of a leg; never- 
theless he was ready to take his part in the great campaigns of 
'64, and now was determined to lead his army to the doors of 
Louisville. He and his antagonist were well known to each 
other. They had served together as officers in the same 
regiment of cavalry in the old regular army before the war. 

Against Hood's force General Thomas had in front of Nash- 
ville some 25,000 infantry and 4,500 cavalry. These troops 
were effectives in the field. He had additional garrisons in 
Chattanooga, Decatur, Murfreesboro', Nashville and other im- 
portant towns, and in block-houses along the railways, but these 
garrisons were needed just where they were posted. The troops 
with which he could expect to confront Hood's army were the 
Fourth corps under Major-General Stanley, a famous fighter, 
and the remains of the Army of the Ohio, under Major-General 
Schofield, a very able and distinguished officer. Reinforcements 
were to be sent to Nashville from Missouri and the north, and 
horses for the cavalry, but before they came Hood had leaped 
the Tennessee and rushed forward to beat the concentrating 
troops in detail. The idea was Napoleonic. He hoped to cut 
off Schofield on his march for Columbia, but although Cheatham 
was in readiness to assault Schofield's flank as the Union column 
hurried along, he failed to attack, and was severely rebuked by 
Hood for the neglect. 

General Thomas at Nashville was now in a position to try the 
nerve of any man. He had thrust upon him, so to speak, a vast 
array of ineffectives and non-combatants. Nashville was crowded 
with men to feed, but wofully short of men to fight. His cavalry 
was still unhorsed ; thousands of convalescents had gone home 
to vote and had remained to hear the result of the election. He 
had not a division of organized and veteran troops in his lines. 
He could only make provisional brigades of what were there, 
telegraph for the instant return of all soldiers belonging to his 
army, urge the sending of horses, and form for defence as best 



71(3 NASHVILLE. 

he might; meantime he sent word to Schofield to fall back fight- 
ing; to assume command towards the front and delay Hood as 
long as possible; then with superhuman energy he devoted him- 
self to the task of preparation. He was a man of uncommon 
mould — calm, firm, full of high purpose, of the loftiest patriot- 
ism, of the most unblemished honor. He had risen to promi- 
nence at Mill Spring, where he routed- Zollicoffer's army. He 
had fought superbly at Perryville and at Stone River. He had 
immortalized his name at Chickamauga, where his inflexible 
courage and firmness saved the Union army from utter ruin. 
He had won high distinction in the advance on Atlanta. He 
was the most perfect defensive fighter in the western army ; but 
— said some superiors and many inferiors — he was slow. " He 
could not fight an aggressive battle." "Old Slow Trot," the 
soldiers used to call him. " Old Safety " was a name he won 
early in the war; "Old Pap Thomas " his men lovingly called 
him before it was over. He had stood like a rock against the 
Southern host at Chickamauga ; he was now to be subjected to 
an ordeal an hundred times more trying — that of standing like 
a rock against the ignorant demands of the press and the public, 
and against the ill-considered orders and impatient criticism of 
superiors hundreds of miles from the scene of action. 

Obedient to his orders, Schofield faced about at Franklin on 
the Harpeth river, twenty miles south of Nashville. He had 
fallen back slowly, keeping a bold face to the foe, while his great 
superior was straining every nerve strengthening the fortifica- 
tions and organizing his forces at the capital. With a much 
inferior command in point of numbers, Schofield had at Franklin 
an intrenched position, which Stanley thoroughly knew how to 
defend. Hood attacked here at 4 p. m. on November 30th and 
was repulsed with great loss. Again and again the daring 
leader ordered his men to repeat the assault. It was useless. 
It was even foolhardy. In proportion to numbers engaged, 
Franklin y/as the bloodiest battle of the war. Cleburne and 
five other Southern generals and seventeen hundred and fifty 
Confederate soldiers were killed that day, and the loss to Hood's 
army was over 6,000 combatants. A terrible blow, indeed. 



A GLANCE AT THE BATTLE-FIELD. 717 

Schofield's loss was only one-third as much, but included his 
right-bower, Stanley, among the severely wounded, and, having 
thus crippled his rash antagonist, Schofield withdrew to the lines 
of Thomas, who now felt better prepared to receive Hood when 
he should appear before Nashville. 

Let us glance at the ground on which the decisive battle is to 
take place. Nashville stands on the south or left bank of the 
Cumberland river, in the heart of a boldly undulating limestone 
country. The city itself is compact and handsome; the capitol 
a fine building, with a commanding view towards the heights to 
the south. The city lies in a large amphitheatre, as it were, for 
it is encircled by ranges of knobs and ridges that are almost 
concentric. Southeast of the city, grazing it in fact, the first 
circle begins and the hills are steep and high. South they open 
out a little farther from town and sweep around to the Cumber- 
land again on the west. On this range was built the inner line 
of strong redoubts and earthworks that defended the city. Fort 
Negley, at the base of which runs the railways to Murfreesboro' 
and Franklin, was the highest and most important. From here 
another line was thrown out on a second range of knobs and 
ridges that swept around like the first, to the Cumberland, a mile 
outside. This was the outer line of works, averaging an hun- 
dred feet greater height than the first, and between this second 
or outer line and a series of bluffs spanning the southern horizon 
was a fertile valley cut up into numerous little ridges and 
" swales " of its own. Back of these bluffs, directly south of the 
city and about five miles from the capitol, are the Overton 
hills, the highest of all. 

From Nashville three railways ran out south of the Cumber- 
land — one to Chattanooga southeast by way of Murfreesboro; 
one to Decatur south by way of Franklin, and one to Johnson- 
ville on the Tennessee, nearly due west. Besides these there 
were no less than ten broad high roads or " pikes " radiating out 
in every direction, east, west and south. Three of them ran 
nearly south. Passing right under Fort Negley and the Over- 
ton hills is the Franklin pike. Next to the west of it is the 
" Granny White" pike, and west still farther is the Hillsboro 
45 



718 NASHVILLE. 

pike. The three leave Nashville almost at the same point, but 
gradually spread apart until, crossing the line of the Overton 
hills, there is a good long three miles between the outermost; 
and it was mainly between the Franklin and Hillsboro roads that 
the great battle of Nashville was fought. 

On December 3d General Hood, with his whole army, smart- 
ing and raging after his severe punishment at Franklin, appeared 
before the lines of works. They were too strong for him to 
assault. He therefore threw up rifle-pits and earthworks, ex- 
tending from the Chattanooga railway on the east, circling around 
the Union lines, and ending at the Hillsboro pike on the west. 
From there, around to the Cumberland his cavalry kept actively 
scouting, Between the Hillsboro pike and Granny White road 
the lines approached each other to within half a mile at one 
point, then stretched apart. East of the Franklin pike they were 
separated by a distance of two miles. Hood placed his guns in 
formidable and commanding positions, and apparently dared the 
Northern army to come out and fight him ; but Thomas was not 
ready. He was making all haste, however ; and his batteries 
opened a lively fire at the Confederate works. 

Now the mere presence of this Southern army in front of 
Nashville was something the Northern press could not tolerate. 
The same " on to Richmond " spirit that had plunged a raw and 
unprepared command into the fire of the first Bull Run, began to 
clamor at Thomas. He was implored, urged, then ordered to 
attack at once. There never is a time when a newspaper editor 
does not think he knows more about handling an army than 
the man who happens to be at the head of it. Then came 
columns of threats and abuse at Thomas because he would 
not attack. Feeling sure that every day added to his own 
strength and his opponent's weakness, Thomas desired to wait 
until he had mounted his cavalry. He had promised Sherman 
that if Hood came north of the Tennessee he would ruin his 
army, and he meant to do it ; but to " ruin it " he must not only 
beat it, he must pursue and grind it to pieces. This he could 
not do without cavalry. 

Then the cabinet and the war department began to worry 



IMPATIENCE AT WASHINGTON. 719 

General Thomas. Knowing full well that his cavalry was still 
afoot, and that most of his men were the "discards" of com- 
mands that had gone with Sherman, it was considered necessary 
to prod and push him into action. " He should have fallen on 
Hood right after Franklin," said the wiseacres at Washington. 
" He should have pounded him with his fresh troops." 

Mr. Stanton, early in December, telegraphed to General Grant 
that Thomas' conduct looked " too much like the McClellan and 
Rosecrans' strategy of do nothing." General Grant began 
sending urgent telegrams from City Point near Petersburg to 
Thomas at Nashville, setting forth the theory that Hood should 
be attacked at once ; but not, most fortunately, giving positive 
orders. On December 5th, however, he wired : " Time strengthens 
him, in all probability, as much as it does you." On December 
6th, 4 p. m., he sent these peremptory orders : "Attack Hood at 
once, and wait no longer for a remount for your cavalry." 

This was hard. General Thomas had but one brigade in the 
saddle. Forrest was whirling all around Hood's flanks with over 
ten thousand horsemen, but orders were orders. Thomas re- 
plied that he would make immediate dispositions and attack as 
ordered, but thought it would be hazardous. Nevertheless his 
troops were not yet concentrated, and not until the 9th was he 
in readiness to strike. All the intervening hours he had been 
compelled to read or hear of all manner of criticism, injustice 
and abuse from the press or the authorities. It was enough to 
drive most men to desperation, but General Thomas remained 
calm and determined. On the 9th he issued his orders for attack, 
and that very day orders were telegraphed to Washington 
relieving him from the command, and placing General Schofield 
in his stead. A terrible storm of rain, freezing as it fell, began 
at daybreak on the 9th and nobody could attack, and this gave 
General Grant time to think better of his order relieving General 
Thomas. It was suspended. The storm lasted for three days. 
The whole country was covered with sleet and ice. Men could 
not march or move at all. Horses slipped and fell and seriously 
injured their riders; but the whole nation was clamoring now, 
and on the afternoon of the 1 ith General Grant again telegraphed 



720 NASHVILLE. 

from City Point to delay no longer for weather or reinforce- 
ments. Thomas replied on the 1 2th that he would attack the 
moment the sleet melted; and on the 14th General Grant him- 
self started for Nashville via Washington, under the mistaken 
impression that he could get there before that long-deferred 
attack would be made. At Washington on the night of the 15th 
the strained anxiety of all the cabinet was allayed by the brief 
despatch which there met General Grant : 

"Attacked enemy's left this morning; drove it from the river, 
below the city, very nearly to Franklin pike, distance about eight 
miles." 

In these modest, soldierly words General Thomas reported 
the result of as scientific, masterly and gallant a battle as ever 
was fought on our continent, and the outcry against him gave 
place to a burst of admiration and enthusiastic applause. 

Noon of the 14th of December came, before the south winds 
had thawed away the armor of ice and sleet that had made, for 
nearly a week, all movement on either side an impossibility. 
Then that afternoon the calm and patient leader called together 
his principal generals, explained to them in quiet words his plan 
of attack, and gave his orders. There were assembled Schofield, 
the victor of Franklin ; A. J. Smith, of the Army of the Tennes- 
see; T. J. Wood, now at the head of the gallant Fourth corps, in 
place of that fierce fighter Stanley, who had been painfully 
wounded at the Harpeth ; Steedman, in whose command were 
many regiments of colored troops destined to make their maiden 
battle ; Donaldson, who recruited his brigade from the army of 
quartermasters' employes; and Miller, who commanded the 
little garrison of the city proper. These were the leaders of the 
line ; but with them stood the energetic head of the cavalry corps 
of the Western army, Major-General Wilson, who among his 
division commanders had some admirable and experienced 
cavalrymen ; and now and not until now was Wilson able to 
report his corps ready for work. Only three-fourths of their 
number were mounted, to be sure, and only one-half well 
mounted ; but the others could and would fight as infantry, and 
there were 6,000 at least who were in splendid trim. On the 



THOMAS' MASTERLY STRATEGY. 721 

1 2th, leading their horses, these fellows slid and stumbled across 
the river from Edgefield, where they had been encamped, and 
went into bivouac under the guns. 

The meeting at General Thomas' headquarters was long. 
Every point was thoroughly explained, and when it broke up 
and the generals scattered to rejoin their commands, every man 
knew to the last detail the duty expected of him. That night 
there was an unaccustomed stir in the camps around Nashville. 
Hours before the dawn the men were summoned to arms, and, 
sleepily rousing from their pallets, the soldiers buckled on their 
accoutrements, turned the overcoat collars well up about their 
ears, and silently took their places in the ranks. 

Just as at Leuthen, at Austerlitz, at Jena, a dense fog hung 
over the earth, obscuring all movements, and deadening the 
sound of tramping hoof or rumbling caisson. Just as at Leuthen 
the heavy columns moving forward into the mist turned to the 
right when within cannon-range of the enemy, and in compact 
order marched away parallel to the Southern lines until they 
reached the Hillsboro and Hardin pikes. Out these they 
tramped in solemn silence, while Miller and Donaldson with 
their brigades quitted the muddy suburbs of the capital and occu- 
pied the redoubts and earthworks vacated by the men of the 
Fourth, Sixteenth and Twenty-third corps. Just as at Leuthen 
the plan was to hurl a powerful force on the enemy's left, deceiv- 
ing him meanwhile by a feint at assault on the other end of his 
line, and, by "turning" and driving him in from the Hillsboro 
road, to double up the line, force it back on the centre, and then, 
in grand assault from the west, sweep it across the Granny White 
road, and, if possible, cut off the retreat towards Franklin. Once 
driven in and " turned " on his left, Hood would be compelled to 
abandon his hold on the heights near the river on the east, and 
fall back from the line of intrenchments he had thrown up, then 
accept battle in the open country, man to man and gun to gun ; 
and of the issue of that combat Thomas had no doubt whatever. 
All that was necessary was secrecy, and prompt and cordial 
co-operation on the part of his officers. 

To Steedman, with Cruft's, Miller's and Donaldson's troops, 



722 NASHVILLE. 

was left the care of the defensive works and the duty of making 
a formidable assault on the rifle-pits and earthworks of Hood's 
right flank, while the main army essayed the difficult feat of 
working around the other flank in the face of their active cav- 
alry. 

Steedman early designated the troops for his trying duty. 
It is far harder to get cut up with killed and wounded in a pre- 
tended assault, than in one which holds forth the glorious possi- 
bility of carrying the coveted position. Steedman's men were 
to make believe desire and attempt to carry a position far too 
strong to invite actual attack in front, and, in order to success- 
fully deceive the enemy, it was necessary that they should ad- 
vance with every appearance of determination. Three columns 
under Colonels Morgan, Thompson and Grosvenor, composed 
mainly of troops from Ohio and Indiana, with several finely 
drilled regiments of hopeful colored troops, were in readiness, 
and two light batteries were posted on their flanks to aid in the 
movement. 

In the earliest gray of the misty dawn, the troops of the Union 
army poured forth from their earthworks to the southwest of 
Nashville, and pushed boldly out over the rolling, open country. 
On the extreme right, in widely dispersed order, so as to cover 
a large tract of the neighborhood, marched the horsemen of 
Wilson's cavalry corps. One small division under General R. 
W. Johnson, following the river road, moved westward in search 
of any of Forrest's people who might lie in that direction — a 
wise precaution that rendered the thoughtful commander-in- 
chief secure of his right flank, for long before the roar of the 
guns from the distant eastern front of the city told Johnson that 
Steedman had begun his attack, he himself found his advance 
confronted by a brigade of Forrest's men under General Chal- 
mers. 

A mile to the south of Johnson's division, Croxton's cavalry 
were feeling their way out across the open ground between 
the Charlotte pike and the Johnsonville railway : Knipe's brig- 
ade cautiously advanced along the Hardin pike, while the fine 
division of General Edward Hatch covered the ground between 



THE GREAT BATTLE BEGINS. 723 

him and the right of the infantry lines. The entire front thus 
covered and patrolled by the cavalry was something like four 
miles in extent, but it was not here that the enemy was expected 
in any force. 

Marching out southwestward along the Hardin pike came 
the corps of A. J. Smith, its leading division commanded by 
General Kenner Garrard, and an odd circumstance occurs to us 
at this moment as connected with the battle of Nashville. Four 
of the principal participants, Generals Thomas, Hood, Garrard 
and R. VV. Johnson, at the outbreak of the war were brother 
officers in the same regiment, the old Second cavalry of the 
regular army, and little did Thomas and Hood then suppose 
that the winter of '64 would see them commanders of two hos- 
tile armies grappling in a deadly struggle for the control of the 
western border States. 

Following in the track of the cavalry a mile beyond the works, 
Garrard's division then turned to the left and moved out through 
the fields towards the Hillsboro road, and here Smith's three 
divisions were ordered to form their line ; McArthur's division, 
groping out between the Hardin and Charlotte pikes, had a harder 
and longer road to travel, and before he was a mile outside the 
works, the skirmishers, well to the front, stirred up the outlying 
pickets of the Southern cavalry. It was barely daylight. Hardly 
an object could be distinguished at ten yards' distance through 
the fog, but even as the sudden crack of carbine and " Spring- 
tfield" burst on the startled ear, down among the rough slopes 
and hummocks to the southwest, there came from east of Nash- 
ville a thundering roar that woke the valley into vehement life. 
Covered by the huge Dahlgrens and rifles of the gunboats on 
the river, masked by the fire of the entire line of eastern works, 
Steedman's devoted column had marched out from the shelter 
.of the heights along Brown's creek, crossed that narrow stream, 
deployed along the Murfreesboro pike, and now, facing south, 
was advancing upon the Southern right flank, whirling in their 
skirmishers before the long blue lines. The great battle had 
begun. 

At eight o'clock on this dismal wintry morning, through fog 



724 NASHVILLE. 

and drizzle, through yielding and muddy by-roads, through 
rough, untrodden fields, the army of General Thomas had pushed 
its way into the assigned positions, and three strong and enthusi- 
astic corps were massed in front of the left of Hood's lines, 
waiting only for the word " forward," while that buoyant com- 
mander himself, deceived by the roar of battle to the east into 
the belief that the main attack would come from that point, was 
hurrying troops thither from his centre. Thomas' plan was 
working to a charm. 

Sending his chief of staff, Colonel Whipple, whose well-won 
pet-name of "Old Faithful" fully describes the man, to order 
Steedman to press the assault with all apparent energy, Thomas 
now rode forward to direct the grand turning movement in 
person. At this moment all three corps commanders, Smith, 
Schofield and Wood, were west of the Hillsboro pike, and the 
Union line, covering a general front of about two miles out in 
the fields, was facing a little east of south. On the left stood 
Beatty's division of the Fourth corps; next on his right was 
Kimball's and then Elliott's, all formed in double battle-lines 
with strong veils of skirmishers. Beyond the Fourth corps and 
farther advanced, in readiness to wheel to the left, were the three 
divisions of General A.J. Smith; McArthur's being on the right, 
Garrard in the centre and left, while Moore's division was 
formed in reserve. 

In rear of the centre of the line thus formed by Wood and 
Smith stood Schofield with the Twenty-third corps — Cox and 
Couch being his division commanders ; while on the extreme 
right, aligned with McArthur's men, yet ever eagerly, impa- 
tiently edging forward as though bound to get an advantage at 
the start, were the troopers of Hatch's division. Dismounted, 
and with their horses led well to the rear, these extemporized 
footmen were bent on showing their more experienced infantry 
comrades that they could head a charge even if they had to 
crawl to do it. Croxton and Knipe, finding the country clear 
for miles out to the southwest, had wheeled to the left and come 
up in rear of Hatch. Johnson, way down the river towards the 
Davidson house, was just beginning to exchange compliments 
with Chalmers' euns. 



"OLD SLOW TROT' OUTGENERALS HOOD. 725 

Beyond all question, Hood had not looked for this advance 
on his open left. Perhaps he too was thinking of the old regi- 
mental name by which the troopers had been wont to call their 
grave, earnest major in the days gone by. He did not give 
" Old Slow Trot" credit for a brilliant move; he had forgotten 
the fable of the tortoise and the hare. But here at half-past eight 
A. m. stood his former battalion commander ready to double him 
up, the moment the fog lifted, and, except for some heavy skir- 
mishing with McArthur's men as they swung around across the 
fields, he had no idea of his coming. 

Nine o'clock. Off to the east, gunboat and battery, Rodman, 
Parrott and Dahlgren are thundering on the heavy air with re- 
doubled fury ; the housetops of the distant city are thronged 
with awe-stricken spectators; the brown parapets on the slopes 
are alive with eager blue-coats peering through the thinning 
mists for the first signs of the opening battle. Steedman has 
received his orders, and now the long blue lines, heavily backed 
by supporting battalions, sweep forward in grim earnest; stern, 
set, white faces march side by side with the nervous and excit- 
able black, but there is no falter — no craven in either. In front 
lies the railway; across it the Southern guns; and now as the 
skirmishers draw aside and the solid battle-lines come on at the 
sharp double-quick, the barred battle-flags of the Confederacy 
leap to the crests ; the gunners spring to their deadly work ; 
the long kneeling lines of gray-clad infantry train their rifles on 
the still mist-crowned ranks and wait for the word " fire." It 
comes soon and sudden, and a denser fog, the thick, stifling 
cloud of battle, hangs like a pall over the lightning flashes on 
the field. A ringing cheer, a roaring volley answer the crash 
of the Southern guns, and on go the blue-clad ranks; down into 
the shallow trench of the railway leap the lines ; up the steep 
slope of the cut they climb, and Steedman's feint becomes de- 
spite him an attack in dead earnest. Ohio, Indiana and Ethiopia 
have bearded the lion in his den; the stars and stripes are actually 
in among the cross-bars, and a hand-to-hand fight rages over the 
rifle-pits along the railway. 

This is unlooked for, but is none the less effective. Hood 



726 NASHVILLE. 

sends whole brigades in rapid run to strengthen his right. The 
furious thunder of the guns, firing at random through the fog, 
makes him believe the assault five times as serious as it is. He 
concentrates a heavy force against Steedman's bravely fighting 
column ; batteries are run up to sweep that long chasm of the 
railway cut with their fire, and presently, taken in flank, stormed 
by grape and canister along the whole length of their line, 
Morgan and Grosvenor find their position no longer tenable. 
Their duty is most faithfully, gallantly done ; the whole object 
of the attack is accomplished — more than was expected of them 
those stubborn brigades have finished, and now Steedman issues 
the order to fall back still threatening the works. The defenders 
pause for breath and mutual congratulations over the repulse 
of the Yankee lines, and even as they are wondering what will 
come next, the answer is heard booming over from the far west. 
Covered by his brilliant feint on Hood's right, Thomas has turned 
the unguarded left and is storming down upon the astonished 
centre. 

It is high noon. The fog has gone and Hood's eyes are at 
last opened. For hours the men of the Fourth and Sixteenth 
corps and Hatch's impatient dragoons have been waiting for the 
signal to push ahead, and at last it comes. Leaping from ridge 
to ridge the dismounted troopers have rushed upon a small 
brigade of Confederate infantry posted in the woods and sent it 
scurrying beyond the Hardin house out by the pike, then wheel- 
ing around to the left, where the rolling volleys of McArthur's 
men seem to call them to support, they find their infantry friends 
halted before a couple of stout little forts perched on knobs a 
few hundred feet apart and bristling with field-guns. Never 
stopping to dress their ranks, the cavalry no sooner catch sight 
of these works than they go at them with a ringing cheer, and 
McArthur's brigades, not to be outdone, throw their muskets 
over the shoulder and join in the rush. The very impetus of 
the onset is too much for the defenders. In ten minutes the 
brown parapets are covered by madly cheering men in blue — 
cavalry guidons waving over the redoubt on the right ; infantry 
banners over that on the left, and so far " honors are easy " with 



THE CONFEDERATE LEFT FLANK TURNED. 727 

Hatch and McArthur. Each has taken four guns and a fort. 
The light batteries have done their share in glorious style, for 
they drove the gunners from their pieces before the rush was 
made, and Coon's brigade of troopers with their Spencer carbines 
— those terrible shooters the Southern soldiers used to say we 
"loaded in the morning and kept shooting all day" — swarmed 
over the infantry supports with such a hell of fire that there was 
no withstanding them. 

Meantime the Fourth corps had been doing capital work. 
Squarely in front of Wood's left stood the steep and rugged 
height known as Montgomery hill, east of the Hillsboro' pike. 
Here the Southern lines and earthworks jutted forward in a 
strong salient, for the trees had been cut away, branches falling 
toward the Union lines forming an "abatis" of most approved 
construction ; the slopes were everywhere commanded by field- 
guns in position, and, properly garrisoned and defended, those 
works along the Brentwood ridge were capable of resisting most 
formidable assault in front ; but Hood, as we have seen, had been 
drawing upon his left and centre to resist the supposed attack 
in force over on his extreme right. No real attempt was looked 
for here, and when all was ready and Wood's light batteries 
dashed forward to open on the frowning guns on the heights, 
the Confederate officers were astounded at the supposed audacity 
of the move, and still more astounded when, in long blue lines 
supporting a heavy charging column, the Fourth corps swept 
out across the Hillsboro' pike, and, Post's gallant brigade lead- 
ing the rush, charged cheering upon the works. Then for a few 
moments the roar of cannon was appalling, but despite shell and 
canister, abatis and wire-and-stake-entanglements, with which 
the Southerners had covered the slopes, the Union troops 
swarmed over the works, driving the gunners before them, and 
even before Smith and Hatch had carried the redoubts out to 
the southwest, the banners of the Fourth corps were waving over 
Montgomery hill, the highest point on the advanced line, and 
Hood saw with dismay that old Major " Slow Trot " had pulled 
the wool over his eyes and dealt him a disastrous blow. Now, 
with all speed, he orders back his divisions to the west, and 



728 NASHVILLE. 

with eager zeal they come — but too late. The left is turned ; 
the works are gone, and Hood's advanced line is no longer 
tenable. 

At two o'clock in the afternoon the Southern lines that at 
daybreak were defiantly facing northward towards the dome of 
the State capitol, were now sullenly facing this unlooked-for 
assault from the west. The Twenty-third corps under Schofield, 
quitting its position in reserve, was pushed out southward be- 
yond Smith's divisions, and there, facing eastward, formed line, 
still further encircling the Southern left; and while this was being 
done Hatch, Croxton and Knipe, with their plucky dragoons, 
whirled up all the picket and skirmish lines they could find in 
the woods to the south, and then lapped around to the left again, 
prolonging Schofield's line, thus working to the rear of Hood's 
army. It was all part of the preconcerted plan, except perhaps 
that originally it was intended that Schofield should come up 
into line between Smith and Wood ; but once out in the fight it 
was found far easier to move him over to the south while masked 
by the lines of Garrard's and McArthur's divisions. 

And now once more the general advance begins. The cavalry 
and the divisions of Schofield find nothing in front of them but 
open fields, patches of woods and little country roads over which 
their steady advance in line sends reeling back the few scattered 
commands that oppose them. Smith's three divisions, all up in 
one general alignment by this time, have harder work, for 
they have to drive strong bodies of Southern infantry and well- 
served batteries from height to height, and across the Hillsboro 
pike, where, behind the heavy stone walls, the gray-clad lines 
make stubborn and bloody fight. McArthur's men, who have 
led all the morning and are wild with enthusiasm over their suc- 
cess, hang on to their advantage with reckless daring. Hill's 
little brigade dashes forward upon a battery near the pike, cap- 
tures two guns, the fort and many prisoners, but loses its own 
gallant chief and an hundred men. 

Still farther to the Union left is still harder fighting. Here 
ridge after ridge, height after height bristles with field-artillery, 
and bids defiance with well-planned works to assault from the 



HOOD BAFFLED, BEATEN AND BEWILDERED. 729 

northern front ; but Wood's Fourth corps men, having carried 
Montgomery hill, train scores of guns upon the heights beyond ; 
battery after battery is run to the front, unlimbered and set to 
work, and, under cover of the fierce storm of shot and shell, the 
infantry creep forward into position close under the Southern guns. 
For an hour the thunder of cannon goes on uninterruptedly ; 
then there is a sudden lull ; the blue-clad ranks spring to 
their feet, and, with Kimball's whole division leading, the Fourth 
corps dashes at the second line of works. At four o'clock 
Beatty, Elliott and Kimball have carried everything in their 
front, and now, facing eastward, the Fourth corps rolls up the 
Confederate line as it pushes forward in stern determination. 
It is growing dark. The short wintry day is almost over, and 
from the heights close in front of Nashville far out to the south- 
west the whole country is lighted up with the flashing glare of 
battle, and covered with the low-lying cloud of smoke. Baffled, 
beaten and bewildered, but still fighting savagely, Hood has 
loosed his hold on the entire line of works and is drifting back 
towards the Overton hills, crowded in thither by the resistless 
pressure of the Union army. Kimball has captured half a dozen 
guns and the battle-flags of some over-confident battalions that 
too long clung to their works. Garrard's men, aligned with the 
right of the Fourth corps, have leaped upon another battery in 
time to dispute its ownership with Wood. Hatch, way out on 
the right, has run down and captured a third battery as it desper- 
ately strove to get back under cover, and everywhere there is 
triumph and success. One thing only can and does stop the 
matchless advance — darkness. 

Oh, for three hours more of daylight! Wood has actually 
swept away one-half of the Southern line and has crossed the 
Granny White road ; Smith has driven division after division 
back from ridge to ridge ; Schofield, seizing the heights over- 
looking the Granny White road two miles south of where Wood 
has crossed it, is now fiercely battling with Lee and Cheatham's 
old men for the road itself; and, far out to the south, Wilson's 
restless troopers are forcing their way through wood, ravine and 
cross-road in the effort to reach the Franklin pike. Three hours 



730 NASHVILLE. 

more of light, and even retreat would have been impossible to 
Hood ; but the sun goes down upon the scene of his great dis- 
aster, and there is respite until the morrow. 

Seventeen guns, twelve hundred prisoners and several lines 
of works are the trophies of the day for Thomas, and his losses 
in killed and wounded have been surprisingly small. Skill, 
science and indomitable firmness have won for him, and for the 
nation he so loyally has served, a triumph far greater than any 
that could have resulted from an earlier attempt, and at an 
infinitely smaller cost in precious lives. It may be true that, 
the beloved old hero in his care and thought for his men 
was sometimes slow ; but, how fortunately, how utterly was he 
sure ! 

All that night the despatches came flashing in from Washing- 
ton. The President, the war office, the general of the army, the 
cabinet, all joined in enthusiastic tribute to the calm, self-poised 
soldier whose strategy and science had astonished them as much 
as it had Hood. 

General Grant, who had left the Armies of the Potomac and 
the James to shift for themselves, and started for Nashville to 
fight the battle according to his own ideas, concluded that night 
at Washington that he could trust it to Thomas after all. Logan, 
who had been ordered to hasten to Nashville with the probable 
intent of supplanting Thomas, was stopped by telegraphic order 
at Louisville, and the editorial wit and wisdom of the North, that 
for a fortnight had been levelled in all manner of abuse at the 
devoted head of General Thomas, was bottled for future use.. 
The sole reply — the only satisfaction for all the prodding, criti-' 
cism, abuse and vituperation that the sturdy soldier permitted 
himself, was contained in the brief words of that most charac- 
teristic and modest despatch : "Attacked enemy's left this morn- 
ing ; drove it from the river, below city, very nearly to Franklin 
pike, distance about eight miles." 

So ended the first day. 

All that night Hood's wearied people were worked to get in 
readiness for a fiercer battle with the coming morrow. Falling 
back to Overton Heights, five miles from the city, Hood there 



HOOD'S NEW POSITION CAREFULLY STUDIED. 731 

planted the right of his new line, while his left extended out 
westward across the Granny White pike. The position was far 
stronger naturally, and much more contracted than the one 
occupied on the previous day. The infantry lines, behind their 
hastily constructed rifle-pits, extended along the base of a rocky 
ridge on which were posted a score of batteries commanding 
every approach. Following the trend of the hills the right and 
left of the line were thrown back at right angles to the front, 
securing it against flank attack, and, though greatly reduced in 
force after the sharp fighting of the 15th, Hood had now only 
some two and a half miles of front to defend instead of six or 
eight, as he had before. He was still in trim to make a splendid 
struggle, and there was no doubting Hood's courage. 

Early on the morning of the 16th the Union army was again 
in ranks and eager for the fray. There had been cavalry skir- 
mishing since dawn. Johnson had come up from the river re- 
porting the enemy disappeared below, and from Schofield's right 
far around to the southward and actually along the Granny 
White road, a continuous line of cavalry skirmishers now ex- 
tended. In front of the city Steedman's divisions on the extreme 
left moved cautiously forward across the open fields, while the 
Fourth corps, seizing the Franklin pike, faced southward, de- 
ployed its lines and pushed out over the abandoned position of 
the day before, in search of the new line of the enemy. Not 
until noon were the troops halted in front of the Southern works 
and reformed for the coming assault. It was soon seen that some 
hard fighting was to be done, but the men were in the mood 
for it. 

Riding along his entire front from Wood's left to where Scho- 
field threatened the western flank of the enemy's lines, General 
Thomas carefully studied the position before giving his final 
orders. Well knowing the spirit and temper of his army by this 
time, he had no doubt of his ability to whip Hood out of the 
new works ; but the problem was how to do it with the least 
loss of life to his devoted men. Overton hill with its earthworks 
and abatis was undoubtedly the strongest part of the line, and 
Steedman's columns and Wood's left division were confronted 



732 NASHVILLE. 

by batteries in position, and by finished fortifications as they had 
been on the previous day. These had to be carried by assault, 
and once more Wood called upon Colonel Post with his brigade 
to take the lead. A furious cannonade of an hour's duration was 
the prelude to the attack ; then, with Post in the van of the Fourth 
corps, and Thompson and Grosvenor with their enthusiastic 
darkies on the left, the grand assault began. It was three o'clock 
in the afternoon, and General Thomas was at the moment farther 
over to the west in rear of McArthur's division of the Sixteenth 
corps. Wood and Steedman had ordered their charging columns 
to march steadily forward with ranks aligned until they reached 
the abatis immediately in front of the parapets ; then to make a 
rush for the guns. It was a stirring sight as those solid bat- 
talions moved calmly out upon the low ground at the base of 
the heights, and in disciplined order began the advance upon 
the slopes. For a few moments the Union batteries hurled their 
shells far over the heads of the columns to keep down as much 
as possible the opposing fire ; but, regardless of this, the South- 
ern gunners depressed their muzzles, dropped solid shot and 
shell for case and canister, and opened on Post and Grosvenor, 
dealing havoc in the ranks. But out sprang the officers, some 
seizing their colors and waving them way in front of the advanc- 
ing lines ; and so, despite the cruel gaps and rents torn through 
the battalions, they pushed sturdily ahead, black and white vying 
in the onset, crashed through the stiff-branching abatis, down 
into the muddy ditches, and then, officers leading, up they clam- 
bered to the parapets. Another moment and all along the lines 
the Stars and Stripes were waving on the works, and with flash- 
ing swords and mad cheering the officers were urging on their 
men. 

Then up rose the reserves, and from thousands of levelled 
rifles the Southern infantry poured in deadly volleys, sweeping 
the parapets and hurling the assailants back into the ditch. 
Once more the gunners sprang to their work, and — it was no use 
trying — the blue overcoats went reeling back down the slopes, 
leaving hundreds of upturned faces, black and white, writhing 
in the death-agony upon the bloody slopes of Overton hill. 



A SCENE OF WILD ENTHUSIASM. 733 

Down at the base their leaders rallied and reformed them for 
another charge. Once again brave Colonel Post was called for, 
to command, but there was no answer from his cheery lips. He 
lay among the dead and wounded, crippled but still living ; and 
for the moment Wood and Steedman held off their men while 
waiting for news from the right. 

Here things were going gloriously. Too impatient to wait for 
the flank attack expected of the Twenty-third corps, General 
McArthur begged permission to lead his division to the assault 
of the position in his front ; and Thomas, hastening off to the 
right to push matters in that direction, gave what McArthur 
was eager enough to regard as sufficient assent, and so desig- 
nated McMillen's brigade to lead. Square in his front was a 
wooded height on which rested the left of the Confederate line, 
a strong and threatening position ; but McArthur felt that his 
men were capable of anything by this time. Five regiments 
sprang forward at McMillen's call — Illinois, Indiana and Minne- 
sota in the first line ; Indiana and Ohio in the second. "As soon 
as you are half way up the height," said McArthur, " Hubbard 
and Hill's brigade will advance; " and, ordering his men not to 
fire a shot until squarely in among the rifle-pits, McMillen led 
them forward. They went springing up the western slope of the 
heights ; gun after gun whirled around and opened on them ; the 
rifle-pits blazed with the sputtering fire of the infantry de- 
fenders ; but on they scrambled, and, long before they were half 
way up, Hubbard, finding it impossible to hold back his men, 
who, like hounds in the leash, were struggling to get free, struck 
spurs to his horse, and with half-laughing "Come on, then ! " 
dashed out to the front, and with one wild cheer the brigade 
sprang after its young leader. Then Hill's men took up the 
rush; Garrard's whole division swept to the front in deter- 
mined support ; and so it happened that, before the Twenty-third 
corps could attack the left flank, the Sixteenth was tumbling 
over it. Then came a scene of wild enthusiasm, of the thrilling 
delight of battle-triumph. Confident in their ability to repel the 
assault, the Southern commander held his men to their work, 
and two plucky divisions and half a dozen batteries deluged the 
46 



734 NASHVILLE. 

blue lines with death-dealing fire; but, somehow or other, they 
would not stop. Without a halt, without a waver, on they came; 
and, before they could fully realize their peril, the defenders of 
the Southern left were caught between two sweeping lines of 
fire — McArthur and Garrard all along their front, McMillen on 
their left and rear. They could not stand; they could not repel ; 
they could not get away. To rise and attempt to fall back was 
certain death. There was no help for it. Up went the empty 
hands ; down went the guns ; to earth sank the barred battle- 
flags ; and, riding in among the prostrate grays as the signal 
" cease firing " rang along the lines, and mad cheers went up 
from thousands of loyal throats, McArthur found three generals, 
twenty-seven cannon, a dozen battle-flags and a whole division 
k){ infantry, the prizes of his gallant assault. 

The thunder of the guns only seemed to give emphasis to the 
storm of cheering which swept along the Union lines at this 
moment. Right and left the grand volume of sound was taken 
up and prolonged to the distant flanks. It could have but one 
meaning — victory — and in wild emulation the entire army sprang 
forward to the attack or pursuit of anything that might appear 
in its front. Off to the south, their horses far behind them in 
the woods, Wilson's dismounted troopers plunged through brush 
and brake, driving the cavalry skirmishers before them, Coon's 
brigade working its way in front of the lines of the Twenty- 
third corps. Cox's division came up in time to seize some of 
the hastily constructed works on the southern left, and, with them, 
eight guns and a number of prisoners. Wood and Steedman 
once more led forward their divisions to the assault of Overton's 
hill, and this time, reanimated by the wild cheering from the 
west, there was no stopping them. Kimball, Beatty and Elliott 
swept over the works in their front ; nine more cannon, hundreds 
of prisoners and small arms and two stands of colors, were their 
share of the trophies ; and now, with night fast closing in upon 
the scene, and with the Union lines almost as fast closing in 
upon the fleeing remnants of his beaten army, Hood in despair 
turned southward his horse's head. All was now rout and dis- 
order; all were in wild retreat for Franklin. 



DEMORALIZATION ATTENDING HOOD'S RETREAT. 735 

Fast as the horses could be brought up from the rear, Wilson's 
troopers were remounted and hurried eastward to cut the line 
of retreat on the Franklin pike ; but the horses came too late ; 
the darkness came too soon. Hatch, Croxton and Knipe, after 
a long day's fighting, went into bivouac far in advance on the 
Granny White road ; and the Fourth corps, pushing along the 
Franklin pike in hot pursuit, only stopped when they could no 
longer see their way, and then threw themselves by the road- 
side for such sleep as they could snatch. 

Dawn of the 17th revealed the fact that the utmost demorali- 
zation attended Hood's retreat. Arms, accoutrements and " im- 
pedimenta " of every kind strewed the road. The only real 
army that maintained the cause of the Confederacy in the west 
was utterly routed ; and, true to his promise, Thomas had 
" ruined " Hood. From the " initial feint to the final charge," 
as Van Home justly says of it, " this battle moved on glo- 
riously." It was skillful, scientific and complete from begin- 
ning to end. Every contingency was provided for; every detail 
planned ; every movement studied. Its immediate fruits were the 
capture of fifty-three field-guns, twenty-five battle-flags, thousands 
of small arms, four thousand five hundred prisoners, including 
four general officers, and the complete clearance of Tennessee 
from the presence of any organized enemy. 

In the pursuit that followed, many more prisoners and battle- 
flags were captured. Storm and sleet, and swollen rivers pre- 
vented full and vigorous action here, and many a command was 
enabled to get back across the Tennessee that, under other cir- 
cumstances of weather, would have been captured entire ; but 
the rout was complete. The army never rallied, and in all the 
annals of the great war no one battle had proved more crushing 
and decisive in its results than the great victory of Nashville. 
Here at least the defeated army was so utterly whipped as never 
again to be driven into the field. 

Early in the spring of 1866, describing by the aid of large 
maps the battle of Nashville to his classes at the Military 
Academy at West Point, Professor Mahan, the venerable head 
of the department of military engineering, strategy and grand 



736 NASHVILLE. 

tactics, turned impressively to his audience at the close of his 
lecture : " Gentlemen," said he, " it deserves to be ranked with 
Leuthen and with Austerlitz. It was science itself." 

On the 29th of December, addressing his army, old " Major 
Slow-Trot " quietly summed up the results of the campaign. 
He was never known to exaggerate, and this was what he 
wrote : 

" You have diminished the forces of the rebel army since it 
crossed the Tennessee river to invade the State, at the least esti- 
mate, fifteen thousand men, among whom were killed, wounded 
or captured eighteen general officers. Your captures from the 
enemy, as far as reported, amount to sixty-eight pieces of 
artillery, ten thousand prisoners, as many stand of small arms, 
and between thirty and forty flags." 

In closing the story of Nashville, the writer cannot forego 
the pleasure of quoting from Captain Price's history of the Fifth 
Cavalry of the regular army, so many of whose officers had been 
prominent in this great battle. No words can too fervently tell the 
love and reverence in which the memory of George H. Thomas 
is held by those who knew him, and no tribute more just, more 
feeling has ever been written than that with which Captain Price 
closes the record of that honored life : 

" General Thomas was prominent in four campaigns, two of 
which he commanded in person, while he was second in com- 
mand in the others. His enduring fame rests upon five battles, 
and in these he made no mistakes. He was grand and far-seeing 
at Mill Springs ; magnificent in fortitude and judgment at Stone 
River ; sublime in tenacity at Chickamauga ; impetuous in attack- 
ing the enemy's centre at Missionary Ridge ; and terrible in ex- 
ecution at Nashville, the only battle of the war, except the 
minor one at Mill Springs, which resulted in the annihilation of 
the opposing army." 

General Thomas " did not believe that victories should be 
won by an immense sacrifice of life. He always aimed to ac- 
complish the best results with the least possible loss ; hence he 
was always economical of life and suffering." We have seen 
that at Nashville, where, with the minimum of loss, he accom- 



TRIBUTE TO GENERAL THOMAS. 



737 



plished a maximum in results. " He moved slowly, but with 
resistless power, being a ponderous hitter and as unyielding as a 
rock." It was this latter quality that enabled him to save from 
destruction the Union army at Stone River, and later that won 
him the proud name of " The Rock of Chickamauga." " His 
loyalty to the country, devotion to duty and invincible courage 
made him one of the noblest figures in American history, and 
won him a position among the first soldiers of the world." 

But not as a general alone was Thomas distinguished. His 
private life, his personal character were stainless, were beautiful 
in simplicity, strength and unblemished honor. 

" He never knew what envy was, nor hate ; 
His soul was filled with worth and honesty. . . . 
He neither wealth nor places sought ; 
For others, not himself, he fought. . . . 
So, blessed of all, he died ; but far more blessed were we 
If we were sure to live till we again could see 
A man as great in war, as just in peace, as he." 




FIVE FORKS 




AND 

LEE'S SURRENDER. 

1865. 

ETURNING again to the Army of the Potomac 
we find it in winter-quarters and intrenched 
before Petersburg, at whose walls it has been 
vainly battering ever since the early summer 
of '64. A terrible experience has it encoun- 
tered since we saw it last at Gettysburg. The 
winter was passed in the bleak Virginia woods 
watching the fords of the Rapidan and waiting 
for a chance, that seemed never destined to 
come, of striking the enemy at an unguarded moment. Meade 
had made a well-planned move on the Southern lines at Mine 
Run. The corps of Lee's army were widely separated. Prompt 
action on the part of the Union commanders would have enabled 
Meade to cut the lines in two, but a corps commander who had 
failed him before failed him again. Twelve hours of valuable 
time were lost, and when morning dawned on the day after the 
appointed day of battle Warren, who was designated to attack 
the Southern right with the gallant Second corps, of which he 
was now the chief, found in his front, instead of feeble and open 
lines, height after height seamed with intrenchments, bristling 
with abatis and frowning with a score of batteries. The Union 
lines were to advance at the signal of Warren's guns from the 
distant left, and in grim expectancy the veterans stood in line. 
An hour passed and still no sound. " What's the trouble ? ,r 
queried a knot of officers near the centre of an aide-de-camp 
738 



WARREN UNJUSTLY CENSURED. 741 

who went galloping by. " Oh, it's Warren's benefit and he won't 
play!" was the impatient answer, and, for the time being, an im- 
pression went abroad that Warren, who had done so much to 
save the day at Gettysburg, was turning timid when intrusted 
with a great command. But Warren was wise ; and Meade him- 
self, riding over to inquire the reason of his subordinate's ap- 
parent failure, justified the hesitation. It was no fault of Warren 
or the Second corps. They had done their part and were ready 
for more, but the failure of others had permitted the concentra- 
tion of the Southern lines in his front, and, when the veterans 
of a score of battles gazed at dawn upon the position they were 
expected to attack, those Second corps soldiers said not a word, 
but each man quietly scribbled his name, company, regiment 
and home address on a scrap of paper, pinned it conspicuously 
on his breast, then picked up his musket ready to attack if need 
be, but well knowing that now it was too late for possibility of 
success. There was something sublime in the calm courage of 
that scene, but a still higher order of courage was demanded of 
their young chief. Knowing well that the whole situation in his 
front had changed since his orders to " attack at dawn " were 
written, and that against such an array of batteries and field- 
works direct attack would now be worse than useless — could 
only result in fruitless slaughter — Warren dared to withhold his 
men and to send word to his commander that attack would only 
be disaster. He braved the censure of his chief; the sneers of 
the army ; but he was right, and Meade, a just and honorable 
gentleman, sustained him. Yet from that time there was talk 
of Warren's being " sluggish," and that led on to further com- 
plications, as we shall see. A board of three officers of the 
highest rank, all accomplished soldiers, have lately overruled 
by their opinion, the verdict of a court-martial composed of three 
times their number of officers of equal grade ; the question at 
issue was the conduct of a distinguished predecessor of General 
Warren in command of the Fifth corps ; and the board declares 
that in failing to obey his peremptory orders to attack the flank 
of an unintrenched, and by no means numerically superior, enemy 
in his front, that predecessor was right, because the commanding 



742 FIVE FORKS. 

officer of the army could not have known that certain troops had 
arrived as reinforcement to the enemy. The board declares 
such conduct " soldierly and subordinate." It follows therefore 
that Warren's refusal to lead his men to assault the front instead 
of the flank of an intrenched and expectant, instead of an unpro- 
tected and half-formed enemy, must have been worthy of praise 
beyond all power of words, and, even in the Army of the 
Potomac, his name should be revered. 

However, Mine Run was a bitter disappointment. Nothing 
was accomplished. It seemed as though nothing could be ac- 
complished in that army against those active, skillful veterans of 
Lee. The North was sore at heart; " Hope deferred " too often 
had broken down many a high spirit, and then it was that the 
nation called Grant and Sheridan from the western armies, placed 
the former at the head of affairs military, and virtually told him : 
" Here — we have been trying to teach general after general how 
to fight. We are tired of it. Perhaps our ideas are wrong, 
after all. You take the reins and we will stand aside. Now do 
the best you can." 

The whole world knows the story from this on. Heretofore 
the Army of the Potomac after each battle seemed to have to 
stop a while and think. If the South had had the worst of the 
battle it took this opportunity of recuperating, and by the time 
the North swooped forward again, Lee was ready, and smote 
her " hip and thigh." There were hundreds of eager officers, 
thousands of gallant men who felt that this was no way to 
achieve success, and when Grant came with his reputation for 
stubborn, persistent, bull-dog fighting, it was a positive relief. 
He seemed to know that in those Virginia fastnesses, against 
those skilled fencers of Lee, manoeuvring was more than apt to 
lead to being out-manoeuvred, and hard, ceaseless, unrelenting 
hammering was the order from this on. From May, 1864, until 
they halted breathless before Petersburg, it was one record of 
bloody, persistent pounding on the part of the Army of the 
Potomac at Lee's superbly handled command of sixty thousand 
veterans, and when at last, after the Wilderness, Spottsylvania, 
North Anna, and the frightful sacrifice of Cold Harbor, Grant's 



MORTALITY AMONG NOTED OFFICERS. 743 

army reached the James, with Lee still between him and Rich- 
mond, it was found that the gallant Army of Northern Virginia 
had actually whipped its weight in numbers out of the ranks of 
the Union army — that no less than 60,000 men, killed, wounded 
and missing, had been stricken from the rolls of present for duty; 
and still, with his vast resources at his back, that inflexible 
leader, Grant, was as strong as ever. Terrible had been the 
losses on both sides, and in the armies that confronted each 
other at Petersburg many a familiar face and distinguished 
name had disappeared. Noble John Sedgwick of the Sixth 
corps and gray-haired Wadsworth had fought their last battle 
in the Wilderness. Longstreet, Lee's old war-dog, had been 
crippled for life, and "Jeb" Stuart, the cavalier leader of the 
Southern horse, had fallen before Sheridan's troopers at Yellow 
Tavern. These among the most prominent; yet of generals of 
brigades there were dozens, and of field-officers hundreds who 
would never draw sword again. 

The North held its breath in awe at the tidings of fearful 
slaughter, and marvelled at the grim determination of the silent 
man who wrote from Spottsylvania : " I propose to fight it out 
on this line if it takes all summer ; " but all had hope that Grant 
would be able to " pulverize " the army of Lee. Once across 
the James it was expected that something brilliant would be 
accomplished in front of Petersburg. Then came the fiasco 
of the mine. Admirably as the whole attack had been planned 
by General Meade, disastrous failure was the result. Luck 
still seemed to side with the Confederacy; but there was 
small wonder that this attack should prove a failure when two 
of its chosen leaders, Ledlie and Ferrero, were found to have 
been skulking in a bomb-proof far at the rear, while their divi- 
sions were fighting their way to the front. Then, winter of '64 
and '65 found the army intrenched, as has been said, in front of 
Petersburg, with no apparent prospect of getting out. Very 
much had been lost, very little had been accomplished, so it 
seemed to the impatient and bleeding hearts at the North, and 
when December came, all was deep despond. " The war is a 
failure," was the cry among the Peace party all that fall. Gold 



744 FIVE FORKS. 

had soared up to the nearest figure to 300; and, though the 
South was living on parched corn, and shivering in tatters, 
though its own cabinet had pronounced it impossible to subsist 
the Army of Northern Virginia through the winter, it was still 
undaunted, still brave, hopeful and determined. 

Then the tide turned. Hood's army was shattered to frag- 
ments at Nashville. Sherman exploded the shell of the Confed- 
eracy, and handed over Savannah as his Christmas present to 
the nation, and '65 was rung in with joy-bells all over the North, 
for now at last there was light ahead and no mistake. Sherman 
came pushing up through the Carolinas. Johnston could not 
hold him back. Nearer and nearer he strode, and now at last — 
at last Lee began to look wistfully, nervously, anxiously to his 
flanks and rear. His men were starving, shivering to death ; he 
was surrounded on every side ; he had fought superbly, scientifi- 
cally, grandly ; but — little by little the ground was crumbling 
away beneath his feet. Then Sheridan — that new, meteoric, 
dashing leader who had at last waked up Virginia to a realizing 
sense of what Yankee cavalry could do when properly led — 
whipped his way through the Shenandoah, came trotting down 
the valley of the James, tearing canals, roads and railways into 
ruin as he rode, joined his great leader now reaching around 
the southern limits of the threatened lines, and then, one finger 
at a time, the failing grasp of Lee on his last position began 
to let go; and on the 1st of April Sheridan once more had 
shot around the now quivering flank, fought and won the bril- 
liant battle of Five Forks, the real wind-up of the war, and 
leaped like a blood-hound at the throat of the fleeing quarry. 
One short, breathless week of unavailing struggle and all was 
over with Lee. 

It was a wonderful week. So accustomed had the North be- 
come to hearing that their armies had been repulsed before the 
strong works of the enemy, that for quite a while people con- 
tinued to shake their heads and say, " Wait a day longer and we 
will hear the old story ; " but this time the old story was buried. 
It had been told far too often. To understand the closing strug- 
gle of the war we need a glance at the map, and a brief reference 
to the country in which that struggle was fought. 



SHERIDAN TO THE FRONT. 745 

Petersburg lies some twenty miles south of Richmond, and on 
the south bank of the Appomattox, the largest tributary of the 
James. One railway connects it with the capital, and then, east, 
south and west, three others branched out from Petersburg, con- 
necting it with Norfolk, Wilmington, and with Lynchburg and 
Danville. The roads to Norfolk and Wilmington had already 
been seized and held by General Grant, though the capture of 
the latter, known as the Weldon railroad, had cost him much 
hard fighting and many lives ; but the most important line of 
all, the South Side railway, connecting Petersburg with Dan- 
ville, Lynchburg, and, through them, with the entire Confed- 
eracy, was still covered and held by General Lee. It was of 
vital importance to him, for it was almost the only line by which 
he could receive the supplies slowly and painfully gathered and 
forwarded by his agents. Petersburg was not provisioned for a 
siege, and, if it had been, its supplies would have been gone long 
ago. Grant could only " invest " it from the south and east, for 
Richmond and Petersburg were connected by strong defensive 
works against which all efforts had been fruitless. Grant had 
made several attempts to break through from the James river 
side, always without success ; and at last he began to see that 
the only way to make Lee let go of Petersburg would be to 
reach around behind him and seize that South Side railway; 
and to do this he needed Sheridan. It was on the 27th of March 
when that now renowned leader of cavalry reported with his 
command after his long ride from the Shenandoah down the 
James, and, barely giving him twenty-four hours rest, Grant 
pushed his daring lieutenant out upon this new enterprise. 

The Appomattox river runs a general course from west to 
east, except for one deep bend — a circular sweep northward 
about midway between the Court-House where it rises and the 
city near which it joins the James. Cutting across this bend 
like the chord of an arc, the railway runs otherwise nearly 
parallel with the Appomattox from Lynchburg to Petersburg. 
Midway it is crossed by the Richmond railway, running south- 
west to Danville; and beside this South Side railway there led 
westward and southwestward from Petersburg several tolerably 



746 FIVE FORKS. 

well-graded and passable thoroughfares. Two are nearly parallel 
to the railway — the river and the Cox roads, one on each side 
of it generally, though the Cox road occasionally crosses it. 
Then running out southwestward is the Boydton plank road ; 
east of that, and nearly parallel with it, the Vaughan road. Just 
where the Boydton crosses a little stream known as Hatcher's 
Run a branch leaves it in a westerly direction, the White Oak 
road ; and the whole country hereabouts is a net-work of little 
wood-roads and streamlets criss-crossing one another in every 
possible direction. The forests are dense, sometimes nearly 
impenetrable ; the ground low and swampy. There were no 
slopes, no heights to speak of; the country from the Weldon 
railway out towards Dinwiddie Court-House on the Boydton 
plank, and Five Forks on the White Oak dirt-road, was just one 
thickly timbered flat, ready to be overflowed far and near should 
a heavy rain come ; and just such a heavy rain did come at the 
very moment when Grant pushed out his columns in their 
attempt to feel their way around the right of Lee's lines and get 
that railroad. 

At this moment the Southern forces were holding a line of 
intrenchments and field-works that virtually reached from 
Hatcher's Run, seven miles southwest of Petersburg, around 
that city to the Appomattox, thence to the James, across the 
James and completely encircling Richmond. The main army 
was posted south of the Appomattox — General A. P. Hill, with 
his old corps, commanding from Hatcher's Run to Fort Gregg 
(which lay about two miles southwest of town), and having the 
Boydton plank road running behind him parallel with his line. 
On Hill's left and extending around to the Appomattox, holding 
all the forts, were Generals Gordon and Anderson, with their 
strong divisions of war-tried veterans ; while in chief command 
of all the lines north of the Appomattox, Longstreet, disabled, 
suffering, even crippled with his wounds, reappeared in the field. 
The length of the line thus held from White Oak Swamp on the 
north to Hatcher's Run on the south is given by General 
Humphreys as thirty-seven miles, and this carries the line out to 
the Claiborne crossing of Hatcher's Run, fully ten miles from 



THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 747, 

the city of Petersburg. The earthworks were heavy and were 
strengthened everywhere by thick slashing and abatis. To 
defend this long, encircling line, General Lee had, all told, some 
57,000 men, but they were admirably commanded, were. fighting 
on the defensive, and the nature of the thick and tangled 
country, the scientific planning of their earthworks, gave them 
advantages that were worth more than mere numbers. 

Against them there were mustered on the effective lists of the 
combined armies of the Potomac, the James, and Sheridan's 
cavalry, very nearly 125,000 men; and when General Grant 
began his favorite movement of swinging round the right flank 
of the enemy, he left Generals Parke and Ord with some of the 
Army of the James to hold the works in front of Petersburg, 
and the military line of railway to City Point on the James ; 
General Weitzel, with two divisions well up near Richmond at 
Bermuda Hundred; and on the 29th of March, with Sheridan 
leading, and our old friends of the Second and Fifth corps close 
behind, he pushed out boldly through the unknown country to 
the west. It was the beginning of the end, and we want to look 
well at the men who are with him in this, the closing scene of 
the great war. There is no need to speak of the general-in-chief 
in these pages. His is now a national history and a world-wide 
reputation ; but of his great lieutenant, that eager, restless, 
daring trooper who is foremost in the final campaign, whole 
volumes might yet be written. By this time the cavalry of the 
army has learned to follow and to fight for Phil Sheridan as it 
never did for mortal man before — even the lamented Buford. 
And the Sixth, Eighth and Nineteenth corps have learned to 
know him well : they fought under him at Winchester, at Cedar 
Creek and Fisher's Hill ; and the Sixth corps had come back 
from the Shenandoah full of stories of the way Sheridan sent 
Early whirling up that valley. They would be glad to back him 
up again to-day ; but as luck would have it, the Fifth corps is 
farthest out of all the infantry, and, should he need infantry- 
backing as he doubtless will, these are the men on whom he 
must rely. Sheridan has some 13,000 admirable troopers as his 
own command, and with Merritt at the head of this cavalry 



748 FIVE FORKS. 

corps, and Custer, Devin and Crook as division leaders, his is 
the most complete and independent organization in the army. 
Perhaps there is some little jealousy in the ranks of the hard- 
used Army of the Potomac ; for, while they have been slowly 
groping and struggling or freezing about the lines of Petersburg 
all winter, these gaudy yellow-trimmed horsemen have been 
gayly riding all over Virginia, winning big names for themselves 
(and deserving more than they got at Winchester, for that mat- 
ter), and now here they are again, far in the lead as usual, say 
the plodding infantrymen with the growl that all old soldiers 
must have: " Way out until they strike something: then they 
come back and let us tackle it." Perhaps that was the reputa- 
tion of the cavalry up to the time Sheridan took command, 
despite John Buford's superb stand that first day at Gettysburg 
and " Grimes " Davis' brilliant charge and soldierly death at 
Beverly Ford ; but there is no " come back " where Sheridan 
leads, and all preconceived notions on the subject are going to 
have a sudden shock in the Army of the Potomac. Men of the 
Fifth and Second corps were seen curiously watching the long 
column of Sheridan's troopers as they trotted easily around 
from the James to the extreme left over by the Vaughan road, 
and there was a good deal of the " chaff" and " billingsgate " in 
which our soldiers will indulge at such times — a constant inter- 
change of wordy compliments between horse and foot through 
the lowering March day, and though the Sixth corps cheered 
their comrades of the valley campaign, it is probable that not a 
few of Sheridan's men were ruffled by this sort of reception. 
However, there was no time to squabble over it now. They 
might have to show the very " chaffers " how to fight. Who 
could tell what a day might bring forth ? 

Grant's infantry and artillery had been reorganized for the 
new move through this timbered and swampy country. The 
batteries had been cut down to four guns each ; Hancock had 
been called to Washington some time since to organize the new 
First corps, and his old corps, the Second, is now led by Major- 
General Humphreys, who fought so hard the second day at 
Gettysburg. Miles, William Hays and Mott are the division 



"LET US END THIS BUSINESS HERE." 749 

commanders. Alexander Hays was killed before Spottsylvania. 
The Fifth corps is led by General Gouverneur K. Warren, he 
who showed such brain and bravery at Little Round Top, such 
brain and prudence at Mine Run, and who has become con- 
spicuous throughout the army because he will wear his broad 
yellow sash in the hottest action, where it has become the 
fashion to drop all such ornament. The Fifth is still the 
"dandy" corps of the army, and Griffin, Ay res and Crawford 
command its divisions. Major-General Wright heads the Sixth 
corps, with Wheaton, Getty and Seymour as division com- 
manders. General John G. Parke has the Ninth corps, a com- 
paratively new command, and for that reason, probably, selected 
to remain behind and man the works in front of Petersburg. 

Besides these old troops of the Army of the Potomac there 
came, to swell the ranks of the moving columns, Turner's and 
Foster's divisions of the Twenty-fourth corps, now commanded 
by John Gibbon, whom we have seen rise from the head of the 
Iron Brigade at Second Bull Run to his present high rank, and 
a little division of cavalry from Butler's old army, not 2,000 
strong, but led by a brilliant and brave young soldier — General 
Ranald MacKenzie : and this was the force with which General 
Grant essayed to pin the Southern leader to the wall. 

On March 28th, when all was ready, Grant had summoned 
Sheridan to headquarters and there read to him his instructions, 
winding up by saying to him in his blunt way : " I mean to end 
this business here;" and Sheridan's face beamed with enthu- 
siasm and delight. " That's what I like to hear you say," he 
answered. " Let us end this business here." A very few hours 
afterwards, he with the cavalry was crossing Rowanty Creek 
way down to the south, and striking out 'cross country for 
Dinwiddie Court-House ; while Warren and Humphreys were 
pushing across the stream or rather its upper fork, Hatcher's 
Run, miles to the north of him. Sheridan was to make a wide 
sweep, and the whole idea of the movement was to induce Lee 
to come out from behind his works and fight in the open. 

The President himself had come down to City Point to see 
Grant and his officers before the final start, and to wish them 



750 five forks. 

God-speed. None of the party — and his own son, then Captain 
Lincoln of the general's staff, was one — can ever forget that 
parting. It was the noble-hearted Lincoln's last look at his 
fighting soldiers — two weeks more and cowardly assassination 
had laid him low. He stood on the rude platform of the rail- 
way station as the train bore the general and his staff away, 
gazing hopefully, yet wistfully, after them. God alone knows 
the weight of care, anxiety, agony, that patient and loyal soul 
had undergone during the four long years of the war — a suffering 
from which the martyrdom of his death would have been re- 
lease had it come before, but it came, a ten-fold martyrdom, to 
rob him of all earthly fruition of his dreams of ultimate success, 
yet in robbing him of this earthly triumph, to replace it by an 
eternity of reward a thousand times more glorious. " God bless 
you all," he had said, and with this parting benediction they had 
hastened forth to their appointed task. Another hour and they 
were in saddle at the left. 

That night Sheridan was bivouacking around Dinwiddie, 
Warren and Humphreys among the thickets across Hatcher's 
Run, and then it was that it came on to rain in soaking torrents. 
Morning of the 30th found the whole country one vast quag- 
mire, and a general feeling of depression seemed to have settled 
down on the army struggling through the mud along Gravelly 
Run. Horses floundered up to their girths, wheels sank to their 
hubs in the quicksands in front of the tents where the general 
himself had stopped for the night. The 30th was a gloomy 
day. Even among his own staff-officers, it is said that there 
were some who urged the silent commander to give it up and 
go back ; and, in the Army of the Potomac, if Badeau can be 
cited as authority, " Meade was not sanguine and said little ; but 
others strongly urged a retrograde movement." Evidently there 
was little heart in the move in such vile weather, but Grant was 
inflexible. If he could not burst through an enemy's line, he at 
least had found means to get around. Go back was the one thing 
he never yet had clone, and even his own army could not force 
him to go back now. Yet he would have given much, or have 
been less than man, for some cheery, hopeful, buoyant spirit to 



SHERIDAN'S MAGNETIC SPIRIT. 753 

stand by him in this atmosphere of general gloom ; and it came 
— came like a burst of sunshine when Sheridan, " all mud and 
pluck," rode into the midst of the dripping group around the 
camp-fire at headquarters to report progress at Dinwiddie, and 
to almost beg for orders to push ahead. With Sheridan in such 
a mood, there was an end to all hint of failure, and in half an hour 
the vehement, sturdy little trooper was spurring back through 
mud and rain with the coveted instructions to strike northward for 
Five Forks. Could he gain it in time, before Lee could seize, 
intrench and hold it? It lay so near the South Side railway — 
not more than three miles — that if lost to Lee the road would 
go — and with it, his last hold on Petersburg. 

As early as the 28th, General Lee had learned that Sheridan's 
cavalry was being transferred way around Petersburg to the 
extreme left of Grant's lines. He knew at once what that must 
mean — a blow at the South Side road from that quarter. The 
first undefended track along which the blow might come was 
the Ford road from Five Forks. Anderson's men were already 
moving over to the west to man the works across the Claiborne 
road to Sutherland Station, but some one must make a leap for 
Five Forks, and the choice fell on Fitz Hugh Lee, who had 
been far over towards the Chickahominy swamps. He and his 
cavalry division rode like mad all day of the 29th, reached 
Sutherlands that night, sprang upon Five Forks the next morn- 
ing, and, that afternoon, March 30th, he and Merritt had grap- 
pled along the Dinwiddie road, and Sheridan's impetuous ad- 
vance was stemmed. At this moment there were at least five 
miles of mud and quicksand between Warren's left and the near- 
est flank of Sheridan's adventurous horsemen. Guns and wagons 
were stalled and could not budge an inch until the roads were 
corduroyed. What if Lee should push still farther, thrust other 
cavalry through that five mile gap, cross infantry by the White 
Oak road to Five Forks, and hem Sheridan in at Dinwiddie ? 
It was practicable. It could be done, and then the vaunted hero 
of the Shenandoah would be at their mercy, and Grant's eyes, 
yes, and his right arm, gone. Full information had reached the 
Southern general of the situation by this time, and he strained 
47 



754 FIVE FORKS. 

every nerve to meet the emergency. By sunset on the 30th, 
Rosser and W. H. F. Lee had reinforced Fitz Lee's division 
south of Five Forks, and Pickett, he of the heroic assault at 
Gettysburg, with five brigades of veteran infantry, was pitching 
up earthworks along the White Oak road from Five Forks east- 
ward. Eighteen thousand men had been launched out to 
"gobble," as the saying went in those days, Sheridan and his 
13,000. 

Late on the night of the 30th, Grant determined, on learning 
how Lee had weakened his lines at Petersburg, that the time I 
had come to assault the works around the town, and far to the 
south of it. At this moment Parke, with the Ninth corps, cov- 
ered the front to the east ; Wright, with the Sixth corps, from 
Parke's left, well out to the southwest ; then came Ord's men, 
from the Army of the James, confronting the lines five and six 
miles southwest of the town ; then Humphrey's Second corps, 
stretching across country near Hatcher's Run and almost to the 
Boydton plank road ; while close on his left was the Fifth corps 
under Warren, covering the plank road and picketing the coun- 
try to the crossing of the Claiborne and White Oak roads. Then 
came that five mile gap to Sheridan, off southwestward in the 
woods above Dinwiddie, and both Sheridan's right and War- 
ren's left flanks were in jeopardy. 

That night too, Grant from his headquarters near Gravelly 
Run wrote to Sheridan that he would detach the whole Fifth 
corps and send it to him on the following day if he thought 
that by aid of it, and acting independently of the rest of the 
army, he could swing round the right flank of Lee's army and' 
so hem them in ; and Sheridan's reply came on the morning of 
the 31st. He was willing — eager to try it, with the Sixth corps. 
They knew him and he them, but, he shook his head at men- 
tion of the Fifth corps. They could and would fight superbly 
for men they knew and liked, but somehow or other that Fifth 
corps seemed to want to know too much about what some other 
corps was to do while they were doing this and that, and Sheri- 
dan had possibly heard that Fifth corps commanders had before 
now been singularly liberal in their interpretation of orders 



DISTRUST OF WARREN. 755 

coming from superiors who had learned obedience in the west. 
He had never led the Fifth corps. He only knew Warren from 
what had been said of him, and some vague talk around the 
camp-fire, and as bad luck would have it, he had been preju- 
diced against as brave and cool and scientific a fighter as the 
army possessed, far too cool and deliberate as a mate, to pull 
with fiery, magnetic, all-daring Sheridan. 

But his old standby, the Sixth corps, was far over to the right 
in front of Petersburg. Warren alone was available ; and War- 
ren it was who finally received the orders to support Sheridan at 
Dinwiddie, and act under his orders ; but meantime grave 
changes came. Early on the 31st Lee's men rushed into the 
gap ; doubled Warren up like a pocket-rule ; sent Ayres and 
Crawford reeling back on Griffin, and if Miles, of the Second 
corps, had not come to the rescue when he did, might have driven 
him still farther. The subsequent rally and advance was fine, 
but the 31st of March cost the Fifth corps nearly 1,500 men, 
and its chief a vast amount of severe criticism, which added to 
the impression at three headquarters — Grant's, Meade's and Sheri- 
dan's — that, with all his acknowledged ability and personal 
courage, Warren was not the man for this place. All day long 
in mud and mist his men were fighting, marching and meeting 
or making charges, and night found them worn out, and their 
leader somewhat dejected. This was their condition when, at 
eleven o'clock at night, Warren received his orders to march 
Griffin down the Boydton road, and move with his whole corps 
to strike in rear the enemy then enveloping Sheridan. " Urge 
him not to stop for anything," said Grant to Meade, for all day 
long Sheridan had been fighting like a tiger between Five Forks 
and Dinwiddie. Merritt and Custer, Devin and Crook had been 
furiously attacked by Lee, Rosser and Pickett's advanced in- 
fantry, and step by step they had been driven back toward the 
old Virginia country court-house. Merritt at one time had been 
well-nigh cut off, but had most skillfully withdrawn his men to 
the Boydton road, drawing the yelling Southerners in a sweeping 
left wheel after him, and got back safely to Sheridan, while that 
indomitable leader launched in the brigades of Gibbes and Gregg 



756 FIVE FORKS. 

on the flank presented by the pursuing enemy, brought them to 
bay, and caused them to turn once more on him at Dinwiddie, 
while Merritt trotted back by way of the Boydton plank, and 
once more deployed on the general line. All day long Sheri- 
dan's generalship had been brilliant, his fighting most gallant. 
Dinwiddie was held ; and now as night came down and the 
cavalry — Northern and Southern — bivouacked in the woods not 
a hundred yards apart, the question was : " How soon can War- 
ren come down and pitch into the enemy's rear? " for at night- 
fall the lines of Lee lay between Sheridan and the Army of the 
Potomac. 

Counting on his coming, believing that by three a. m. at the 
latest Warren would be there in force behind the enemy, Sheri- 
dan felt confident that at early dawn he could fall upon and de- 
stroy the Southern force. "Attack at day-break" were his 
orders, and the men crammed their pouches and pockets with 
fresh cartridges, and eagerly awaited the coming day. Notified 
by General Grant of Warren's instructions to join him at once, 
he listened with impatient ear for the rattle of his musketry as 
the 1st of April dawned damp and chill ; but he listened in vain. 
Warren was still at the other end of that five mile gap. He had 
roused Ayres and his men, it is true, sent them instead of Griffin 
down the Boydton road ; but the bridge was gone at Gravelly 
Run, and not until two a. m. could it be replaced ; his men were 
greatly fatigued ; he feared that his withdrawal in the darkness 
would bring the vigilant lines of the enemy in rapid pursuit, and 
he hung on where he was until five in the morning. Not until 
eleven a. m. did he report in person to Sheridan, now fuming 
with exasperation and disappointment, for it was too late. Warned 
of Warren's tardy coming the Southern leaders had promptly 
slipped out of the trap, passed westward across Sheridan's front, 
and as the latter sprang forward to the attack, faced him and 
fell back, skillfully fighting towards the intrenchments at Five 
Forks, closely followed by Merritt and his charging squadrons. 
The chance was gone. Noon came, and Pickett's men were 
in strong position behind their earthworks along the White Oak 
road. 



PICKETT BEHIND HIS INTRENCHMENTS. 757 

But Sheridan would not give it up. One chance was gone 
to be sure, but there was still time to fight and win a battle. 
New dispositions, new plans had to be made at once ; but gal- 
loping hither and thither over the field, the very epitome of 
soldierly dash and daring, he quickly discovered that Pickett's 
earthworks came to an abrupt end a mile east of Five Forks and 
turned back at a right-angle to the north. From this angle or 
salient eastward along the White Oak road there was a stretch 
of four miles of undefended ground. Calling up MacKenzie and 
his eighteen hundred troopers, he hurried him out eastward at a 
rapid trot; told him to hold that road against all comers until 
he could bring up the Fifth corps, and having thus headed off 
any reinforcements that might be coming from Lee to Pickett, 
he set to work to entrap the latter in his stronghold at the 
Forks. 

Facing southward, Pickett held about two miles of newly- 
built earthworks, with Five Forks in the middle. Ordering 
Merritt to deploy all his cavalry along this front, and to make a 
vigorous feint as though striving to turn the right or western 
flank of Pickett's line, Sheridan hastened to his own right and 
ordered Warren to bring up the Fifth corps with all possible 
speed. He meant to repeat the old Winchester move, assault 
along the front, but to hurl Warren's whole corps against that 
salient — the eastern angle of Pickett's line — and by a gradual 
wheel to the left of the three infantry divisions, to double up the 
Southern line and literally smash it. If Pickett escaped at all 
from between the enveloping corps of Warren and Merritt, it 
could only be to the westward, away from Lee, away from help 
or support of any kind. But time was everything. The short 
spring day would soon be over, and that chance too would then 
be gone forever. Splendidly the cavalry carried out their part 
of the game. MacKenzie, far over to the east, gave a sound 
drubbing to the advance guard of the reinforcements coming 
from Lee. Merritt, dismounting his troopers in front of the 
works, formed his long lines in readiness for attack, while the 
led horses, the fluttering guidons and the reserves stood well 
back among the trees, but ready to leap forward after their regi- 



758 FIVE FORKS. 

ments. Far over to the west, yellow-haired Custer with tw$ 
brigades in the saddle, and Pennington's men afoot, made the 
dashing charge which was to be the feint upon Pickett's right ; 
but here, W. H. F. Lee met him with horsemen as enthusiastic as 
• his own, and these two had a rattling cavalry fight all to them- 
selves, while other and graver matters were going on at the right. 
Oddly enough Pickett and Fitz Hugh Lee were far behind their 
lines at the time, holding some consultation in the thick woods 
north of Hatcher's Run. Accustomed only to the kind of fight- 
ing they had seen in Virginia for three years past, they probably 
imagined that, as usual, the Yanks would stop when they came 
to those earthworks ; but they did not know Sheridan. At two 
o'clock he and Warren were talking over the plan of attack to- 
gether, and that interview has become historic. 

The Fifth corps was only some two miles and a half away at 
the time Warren was ordered to hurry it to the front. It was 
then just one o'clock. The roads were heavy with mud, the 
men so tired that at every halt some of their number would 
throw themselves by the roadside, be sound asleep in an instant 
and almost dead to any summons to be up and moving. Still, 
in his eager enthusiasm, Sheridan counted on their coming in 
an hour, or an hour and a half at the utmost. Every now and 
then, as he strode nervously up and down under the trees, 
where he and his staff had dismounted, his fiery eyes would 
glance toward the western skies where, through the low hang- 
ing clouds, the sun was fast sinking towards the horizon. Then 
he would halt short and address some words to Warren. The 
latter had made a rough sketch of the proposed attack, showing 
the position of the Southern force along the White Oak road ; 
the lines of Merritt and Custer and Devin ; the very fields into 
which his own divisions were to be turned on coming to the 
spot. He was carefully studying the situation, calm, placid, 
methodical ; a calm that, to Sheridan's restless impatience, sav- 
ored of apathy, a method that seemed to be a critical analysis 
of his superior's orders under his superior's very eyes. Still no 
signs came of the longed-for infantry. Again and again Sheri- 
dan glared down the Dinwiddie road in search of the sloping 



SHERIDAN AND WARREN CONTRASTS 759 

rifle-barrels, and the more impatient he grew, the more imper- 
turbably placid seemed Warren. Just or unjust, Sheridan could 
only estimate such conduct from one standpoint. He had, from 
the very start, been accustomed to handling men whose natures 
seemed to leap into instant and eager life at the kindling con- 
tact of his own. His old Michigan cavalry regiment ; his little 
brigade in the Army of the Cumberland ; his fighting divisions 
at Stone River and Chattanooga ; then his brilliant cavalry corps 
in the Army of the Potomac, and the sedate infantry of the Sixth 
and Nineteenth corps, all, all had seemed to become imbued 
with his vehement dash and daring. Men who had fought and 
marched with Sheridan had learned to jump when he spoke ; 
he loved to see snap, life, vim in officer or man; he could not 
tolerate a laggard. Never yet had he met a subordinate whom 
he could not inspire ; but now here was Warren — Warren, whom 
he had been taught to look upon as slow ; Warren, who repre- 
sented the manoeuvring engineer element among our generals, 
as opposed to the hard-hitting, practical fighters of the line ; 
Warren, whose men had been fattening and getting "soft," per- 
haps timid, behind bomb-proofs and earthworks all winter, while 
his cavalry-men were doing rough, lusty work in the saddle and 
the open field. Sheridan simply could not understand Warren. 
What the Iatter's warmest friends considered evidences of " in- 
tense concentration," looked, it must be confessed, vastly like 
apathy to soldiers such as Sheridan, who had never seen him 
light up under fire. Three o'clock came, still the Fifth corps 
was not up, and then it was that in his fuming impatience Sheri- 
dan gave way to the impression — a most natural and justifiable 
impression after all the disappointments of the day — " that he 
(Warren) wished the sun to go down before dispositions for at- 
tack could be completed." When at last the Fifth corps was 
placed in position, facing northwest toward that gloomy salient 
on the White Oak road, four o'clock had come, and Warren 
rode into the attack heavily handicapped with his superior's 
strongly-rooted distrust. 

But of this he knew little or nothing. Intent in his own way 
on carrying out his orders, and recognizing with a soldier's eye 



760 FIVE FORKS. 

the brilliancy of Sheridan's battle-plan, he hastened to the right 
of the road on which lay the Gravelly Run Church, where Craw- 
ford's division in two lines, with a brigade in reserve, had taken 
its post, moved Griffin's splendid division in support of Craw- 
ford, and awaited the signal to advance. Ayres' division, the 
last to arrive, and the smallest of the three, took post between 
the Gravelly Run Church road and that leading from Five 
Forks to Dinwiddie, nearly joining hands with Devin's cavalry- 
men on the left, and facing northwest like the rest of the corps. 
Then, at last, all was ready and advance was the word. Leav- 
ing the cavalry to take care of themselves, Sheridan galloped 
out in front of Ayres' division, he and his staff riding rapidly 
along between the skirmish and the main lines. That red and 
white swallow-tail flag was a new sight to those Fifth corps fel- 
lows, and they looked upon Sheridan's standard-bearer with 
live curiosity. " I will ride with you," said Sheridan to Ayres ; 
and with that, under the sputtering skirmish-fire to the front, the 
division burst forward, while Warren and the greater portion of 
his corps pushed ahead through the tangled woods, expecting 
every instant to be met by the volleys from the Southern lines. 
In ten minutes the skirmishers were leaping across the White 
Oak road under the vigorous peppering of the opposing light 
troops, who fell back slowly before the coming host until close 
under the muzzles of the main lines, when, with sudden rally 
and rush, they disappeared entirely from Ayres' front. The 
next instant, as the long blue ranks with waving colors and 
steady fronts swept forward across the open road, there came 
from the left and left front, a sudden flash and thunder-clap, fol- 
lowed by the rattle and ring of a thousand muskets. In one 
moment the sparse woods leaped with flame and the leaves came 
fluttering down from overhead swept by the storm of hissing 
bullets. It was a savage reception; many a gallant fellow was 
laid low by the sudden storm ; but Ayres was a staunch fighter, 
and, instantly divining that he had found the point where the 
earthworks turned back to the north, and that the fire came 
from that face, he ordered his two brigades to wheel at once to 
the left, and sent word to his supporting line, under gallant Fred 



AYRES CAPTURES A WHOLb. BRIGADE. 761 

VVinthrop, to come forward into line on his left at double-quick. 
It was promptly, splendidly done ; but* the Third brigade 
(Gwyn's), on the extreme right, had to fight its way throvgh 
some thick undergrowth to the open plain beyond. They 
plunged through in some disorder, but kept going until reach 
ing the edge of the thicket and the skirt of the woods ; here 
greeted by a sharp and sudden volley, and being much broker 
by their " bushwhacking," the whole brigade reeled and stag 
gered. It was a critical moment. It would never do to let them 
go back ; Warren, with Crawford and Griffin, was still shoving 
ahead through the woods, somewhere off to the right, but out 
of sight now, and a great gap was forming between Ayres' right 
and Crawford's left. Not an instant could be lost. Staff-offi- 
cers struck spurs to their horses and dashed off into the woods 
to turn Crawford to the left. Gwyn needed their support ; but 
as Gwyn's men still clung timidly to their cover and huddled to- 
gether among the trees, Sheridan could stand it no longer. 
Seizing the battle-flag he leaped out to the front, shouting to the 
amazed infantrymen to " Come on." Somewhere back of the 
line a Yankee band struck up a rollicking Irish air; others 
chimed in with the first tune that happened to strike the leader's 
fancy ; Ayres and his staff rushed forward to aid Sheridan as 
that fiery little rider rode storming, and swearing, and cheering 
along the lines, heedless of the hissing lead that tore through the 
silk of his precious standard, or struck down officers of his eager 
staff. 

| The example was all they needed. Up sprang Ayres' men, 
now all delight with this new and magnetic leader, and with 
mighty rush and cheer they swarmed at, and over the fire-flash- 
ing parapet, grappling with the gunners, seizing battle-flags and 
guns, and capturing an entire brigade. It was barely five 
o'clock when they struck the salient, and in twenty minutes 
Ayres had carried all before him, had faced westward, and, 
hastily securing his prisoners, was preparing to roll up Pickett's 
h'ne along the White Oak road. But already the losses had 
been severe; and of these, none so lamentable as that of the bril- 
liant young general who led his brigade to the support of the left 



762 FIVE FORKS. 

of the staggered line — brave Fred Winthrop ! It was said of him 
that only the night before he wrote a prophetic farewell to the 
woman he loved and who was so soon to have been his bride ; 
and yet, believing firmly that he was not to survive that fight, 
he rode into action all spirit, energy, enthusiasm, " the best- 
dressed man on the field," says Colonel Newhall, and fell dead 
at the head of his charging, cheering brigade at the very instant 
of glorious victory. 

Edging off to the right, as though to escape that fire from the 
earthworks, Crawford had contrived to get too far away to be 
available at this juncture, and Griffin, moving as his support, 
followed his tracks until the rage of battle on his left, the vehe- 
ment cheers of Ayres' men, the wolf-like yell of the defiant 
Southerners, and the crash of volleys told him that it was there 
he was most needed ; and even as he was wheeling to the left 
Sheridan's aides came tearing through the woods to order the 
move. Brother artillerists were Ayres and Griffin in the old days 
before the war, and now almost at full run the latter " changed 
front forward " in rapid wheel to the left, and came crashing 
through the brake and thickets on the right of his comrade in 
arms, and not too late ; for, as his lines straightened out and 
swung round until they faced southwestward before the eager 
"forward" rang along from battalion to battalion, they came 
upon a confused throng of gray-clad infantry drifting back 
through the woods from the now raging battle front, and, leap- 
ing upon them, added fifteen hundred prisoners to the swarm 
already being disarmed by Ayres. 

Meantime there had been a glorious scene to the west. No 
sooner did Merritt hear the crash of musketry and the thunder 
of guns over to the right, than he gave the long-awaited order 
to attack along the whole line, and, while the Fifth corps pushed 
through open fields or unresisting forest, Merritt's cavalrymen 
unslung carbines and sprang forward to the assault of the line 
of earthworks. Theirs was the brunt of the battle, for the at- 
tack of parapets lined by infantry is no bagatelle at any time, 
and for horsemen, turned for the nonce into foot-soldiers, it is 
especially trying. With strong skirmish lines, and inspired by 



PICKETT'S LEFT AND CENTRE ROUTED. 763 

the music of cheers, volleys and martial bands over at the right, 
and the ringing, stirring signal calls of their own trumpets, the 
cavalry corps made its spirited advance. Superb leaders had 
they — men who rode with the foremost skirmishers, and whose 
flashing sabres pointed the way : whose joyous voices cheered 
on every charge. Devin, Fitzhugh and Gibbes on the right; 
Custer, Pennington and Capehart on the left, while Merritt 
from the centre, directed every move and vigilantly watched the 
changing phases of the battle. Far off to the left, Custer had 
two brigades still in saddle, and with these led charge after 
charge on the Southern cavalry west of the intrenchments, but 
all the rest of the line fought dismounted in front of the parapets, 
and this was trying work. At first but little headway could be 
gained, for the infantry defenders made the air hum with bullets 
and the entire front was a " dead-line," but as Ayres' men came 
tumbling over the lines along the " return," and Griffin's volleys 
crashed through the woods behind them, the gray brigades along 
the White Oak road began to slacken the vigor of their fire. 
Seeing this, Fitzhugh, of Devin's division, called on his brigade 
and in a gallant charge dashed over the parapets in his front, 
capturing three guns and a thousand prisoners with their battle- 
flags. Pickett's left was now gone. One brigade, Mayo's, was 
retiring in fair order through Five Forks, but others were caught 
between the sweeping lines of Warren and Merritt, just as 
Sheridan had planned, and all was up with them. Crawford 
by this time had been caught and turned to the left by Warren, 
whose divisions and brigades were so hidden in the densely 
wooded country that it was impossible to see more than one or 
two at a time. He himself had sent Griffin orders not to follow 
Crawford, but to turn to the aid of Ayres, and then had plunged 
on after his most distant division. MacKenzie too had come 
trotting back by this time, and, forming out on Crawford's right 
and swinging westward with him in a wide sweep that carried 
him far over Hatcher's Run, Warren leading and direct- 
ing, they had now reached the rear of Pickett's lines, seized 
the Ford road and were pressing on, picking up prisoners by 
the hundred. Griffin had found a strong brigade posted to face 



764 FIVE FORKS. 

him, and had had a stubborn struggle of half an hour before 
they broke, but now, now as sunset came, everywhere along the 
left and centre of his lines Pickett saw only rout and disaster — ■ 
he himself had almost had to fight his way through Mac- 
Kenzie's and Crawford's skirmishers before he could reach the 
field. 

All this time Warren had been most energetic, riding to and 
fro — first with one, then with another division; but never, as luck 
would have it, being seen by Sheridan. The latter was still 
aflame at the thought that he himself had had to rally and lead 
the Fifth corps, and that his staff officers could not find Warren. 
Crawford's long detour had delayed matters, and darkness was 
coming on. No half-way victory would satisfy Sheridan. He 
aimed to destroy Pickett entirely, and his plans, if promptly 
executed, meant destruction. It seemed an interminable time 
to him after Ayres seized the works and prepared to sweep west- 
ward before he heard Griffin coming in from the northeast. It 
seemed as though he never would hear Crawford. At last came 
the glad chorus of cheers from behind the Five Forks woods, 
and then, as the entire army leaped forward to " wind the thing 
up," then and there, he had his first news of Warren's personal 
movements and sent his indignant and wrathful reply. 

Custer and Devin were now sweeping over the parapets along 
the whole line, and Pickett himself, striving to rally his centre, 
was suddenly pounced upon by a brawny cavalryman astride of 
a mule, who leaped the earthworks and with conventional sol- 
dierly blasphemy demanded his surrender; Pickett barely escaped 
with his life. Still his right hung pluckily together. Craw- 
ford's division, once more led by Warren himself, was far around 
behind Five Forks at this moment; had captured a four-gun 
battery and was still pressing on. Here, near an open plat, 
called the Gilliam field, Pickett's men were making their last 
stand, and as Crawford's division emerged from the woods 
greeted them with a scathing fire. The men were in loose order 
after long pursuit and cross country fighting, and were halted 
and a little staggered by the discharge, but it was no time to 
delay them, and even as Sheridan had done in front of Ayres, 



WARREN'S DECISIVE CHARGE. 765 

Warren, corps-flag in hand, sprang into the front of Crawford's 
men, officers and color-bearers dashed forward, and though the 
hot fire swept down Warren's horse and his own orderly, and 
wounded officers immediately around him, the gallant leader 
himself was unhurt — the last of Pickett's lines was swept away, 
and Custer's brilliant division of cavalry thundering up from the 
south sent the fugitives whirling into the woods along the road 
to the west, and Five Forks was over and done with. 
| It was even at this moment of almost breathless triumph that 
Warren received the order relieving him from the command of 
the Fifth corps, and ordering him to report in person to the 
general of the army — the saddest feature of this most brilliant 
and gallant day. Prejudiced, in all probability, by what he had 
heard of him, exasperated by the delays of the previous night 
and the apparent apathy of the present day, virtually invited that 
very day by the lieutenant-general to send him back and put 
some other man in his place, and, finally, unable to see or to 
hear of him during the danger and daring and heat of the battle, 
Sheridan had at last lost all patience ; had availed himself of the 
authority expressly conferred on him by General Grant ; had 
placed Griffin in command of the Fifth corps, and sent Warren 
to the rear. Years afterwards, when Warren finally succeeded 
in having a thorough investigation of the whole matter by a 
court composed of just and distinguished officers, it was deter- 
mined that his conduct during the battle was all that it should 
have been, and that there was no unnecessary delay in bringing 
up his corps that afternoon; but it was held at the same time, 
that Warren was culpable in not coming sooner to Sheridan at 
Dinwiddie on the morning of the 1st of April, and as Sheridan 
began to judge him then, could only see during the day what 
looked like apathy or lack of energy, and did not see any of his 
superb conduct during the battle itself, there is little need of 
wonderment at his strenuous action. It was simply in keeping 
with his vehement, uncompromising nature, and had there been 
a Sheridan in the Army of the Potomac earlier in the war, there 
would have been fewer Bull and other Runs. 

Five Forks was the one brilliant tactical battle fought and won 



766 Five forks. 

by the aid of the Army of the Potomac, and it was all planned, 
fought and won inside of eight hours. Morally and materially 
its results were most important. One-third of Lee's army was 
knocked into splinters ; 4,500 prisoners, thirteen colors and six 
guns fell into the hands of the victors, and the fragments of 
Pickett's army were pursued till dark and scattered over the 
Virginia woods in sore dismay and suffering — clothing in 
tatters — food they had none. One only marvels that they fought 
so well. Aided by troops hurried out along the South Side 
railway, Pickett managed to rally some few thousands of his 
men north of Hatcher's Run by the following day ; but that 
night Sheridan's troopers and the worn-out Fifth corps biv- 
ouacked around Five Forks, while couriers pushed off through 
darkness, mud and mire to find General Grant waiting eagerly 
at Dabney's Mills for tidings from his trusted right-hand man, 
that he might transmit them to the President, still more 
anxiously waiting at City Point. 

Badeau well describes the scene at Grant's headquarters that 
glorious night. All day long they had been intently listening. 
Three of Grant's aides-de-camp had ridden over at different 
hours to find Sheridan near the Forks, but when nightfall came, 
only one had returned, and he brought tidings of sharp, 
stubborn fighting. The rain had at lasted ceased, and, two 
hours after dark, the general-in-chief was seated by the camp-fire 
in front of his tent " wrapped in the blue overcoat of a private 
soldier." At 7.45 he had sent word to the President that Sheri- 
dan must have had a severe fight, and that he hoped to send 
particulars in a short time. Suddenly there came the sound of 
distant cheering. Far off in the dark wood-roads the soldiers 
were taking up and eagerly repeating the brief words of an 
officer who was hurrying along towards headquarters: presently 
he appeared, and before dismounting had told the gist of his 
story. " The rebs were whipped this time," but he had left the 
field when victory was assured, and could not tell how decisive 
it had been. Soon, however, there came the third and last 
aide-de-camp — Colonel Horace Porter, the most impassive and 
taciturn of men under ordinary circumstances, a man vigorously 



SHERIDAN EVERYWHERE VICTORIOUS. 767 

temperate in his meats and drinks, and the model generally of 
all soldierly reticence and virtues ; but now, to the scandal of 
some of his associates, Porter seemed absolutely drunk. He 
sprang from his horse, wild with delight and enthusiasm, and in 
detailing the results of Sheridan's glorious victory, in the fulness 
of his joy and congratulations he had the hardihood to slap the 
general-in-chief on the back, and comport himself otherwise in 
a most unusual manner. It was one of the comical features of 
the campaign. Nobody had ever seen Porter so worked up 
before; but Grant, it is assumed, readily forgave this ebullition of 
spirits. The colonel had not tasted a drop of stimulant: he 
was simply " drunk with victory." He brought complete 
tidings. The utter rout of Pickett and his men had been ac- 
complished with comparatively small loss to the Fifth corps (634 
killed, wounded and missing), and though the cavalry had lost 
heavily in officers, its aggregate was not greater than that of the 
infantry, and only 8,000 cavalry had been engaged. " Sheridan 
has carried everything before him," telegraphed Grant to the 
President at City Point ; and then stepping for a moment inside 
his tent he reappeared with a written order, quietly saying, " I 
have ordered an immediate assault along the lines." 

That was a wonderful night in the Army of the Potomac. 
From left to right; from Hatcher's Run far around to and 
across the James, the soldiers poured forth from bivouac, tent or 
bomb-proof madly cheering over the glorious news; the bands 
were brought out and kept playing by the hour; and then, long 
before midnight, the loud-mouthed cannon belched forth in 
furious bombardment. At four in the morning a general ad- 
vance was to begin, and meantime, Miles, of the Second corps, 
pushed down the White Oak road to strengthen Sheridan should 
Lee send a heavy force against him. To all his corps com- 
manders Meade sent the particulars of Sheridan's victory, and 
their replies to the orders for attack were full of hope and 
spirit. Ord wrote to Grant that his men would go into the 
works like "a hot knife into melted butter." Wright promised 
" to make the fur fly " on part of the Sixth corps ; and at five 
o'clock on the morning of the 2d of April the Grand Army of 



768 1'i.VE FORKS. 

the Union was pushed into the final assault of the lines of 
Petersburg. 

But Lee fought to the last. He was not yet ready to give up 
his position, for he was the only defence of the Southern capital 
and cabinet. He still had some 40,000 men, and they were 
snugly ensconced behind their earthworks. Wright did indeed 
"make the fur fly" and burst through the lines, as was to be 
expected of him and the old Sixth corps, but Parke found the 
main line still defiantly strong, and his men could make but 
little headway. He carried some outer works, but lost severely 
in officers, while Wright, though losing 1,100 men in fifteen 
minutes, swept everything in his front, and in the headlong im- 
petuosity of their attack, some of the Sixth corps, after bursting 
through the intrenchments just southwest of Fort Gregg, plunged 
on across the Boydton plank road and never stopped until they 
reached the South Side railway, which they began to pull up at 
once. It was at this time that one of the most gallant and dis- 
tinguished of the Southern generals met his fate : Ambrose P. 
Hill, who had so brilliantly handled his corps during the last 
two years of the war, was shot dead by a Sixth corps soldier 
whom the general had come upon suddenly in the woods and 
ordered to surrender. Once through the lines, Wright had 
wheeled westward and southward, swept up the defenders as far 
as Hatcher's Run; then the Sixth and Twenty-fourth corps faced 
about, and marching back towards Petersburg enveloped the 
city on the south and west. Lee could now only escape by the 
north bank of the Appomattox, and that very day, April 2d, he 
sent word to Mr. Jefferson Davis that he could no longer hold 
Petersburg. He would strive to carry his army back to Dan- 
ville, and there renew the fight. 

Sunday morning, and the pious people of Richmond were 
listening to the gospel of peace in their churches, while the boom 
of the distant bombardment fell sullenly upon the ear of the 
sentries at the fortifications ; while only twenty miles away, in 
most gallant, desperate battle, fathers, husbands, brothers, sons 
were fiercely striving to hold their last bulwarks against the 
savage attack of the Twenty-fourth corps. Forts Gregg and 



FLIGHT OF JEFFERSON DAVIS. 769 

Whitworth fell before overpowering numbers even as the church 
bells summoned the worshippers to morning service in the all 
unconscious capital. It was a mild spring morning, soft, balmy, 
sweet with the odor of early buds and blossoms. Hearts were 
beating high with hope in Richmond, for the news had gone 
abroad that Pickett and Fitz Hugh Lee had terribly punished 
the vandal Sheridan down back of Petersburg the evening before. 
Mr. Davis sat in his accustomed pew, while his devoted and 
long-suffering people sent up their heartfelt prayers for Divine 
blessing upon him, and the cause he represented — the cause 
they firmly believed to be as righteous and just as was the cause 
of the colonies in '76. Suddenly, through the open doorway, 
there came a messenger who strode up the aisle, handed one 
paper to the head of the Confederate government, and sent 
another to the officiating clergyman. Mr. Davis opened and 
read his letter; then quickly rose and left the church. People 
wondered, but said no word. Then the minister in as calm a 
voice as he could command, announced that the local forces 
were ordered to assemble, and that no afternoon service would 
be held. With that the congregation dispersed, yet seemed to 
have no idea of the impending disaster. That evening, however, 
Davis, his cabinet and the legislature fled by railway and canal. 
Ewell withdrew his garrison, setting fire to warehouses, bridges 
and stores as he was ordered, and, leaving not a man to guard 
the thousands of helpless women and children, leaving the sick and 
wounded, turning the city over to the mercy of a mob of escaped 
convicts, drunken desperadoes or half-starved laborers. Taking all 
the plunder they could conveniently carry, the great leaders of a 
brave and deluded people sought their own safety without so 
much as an act of protection, a word of farewell or advice for 
those who had trusted and followed them to the bitter end. Of 
Mr. Davis' subsequent adventures, his ignominious flight and 
undignified masquerade, his capture, imprisonment and final 
release, far more has been written than the subject really de- 
serves. After pondering a while as to what punishment might 
most suitably be inflicted, the nation eventually turned him 
loose as being no longer dangerous, and has permitted him to 



770 FIVE FORKS. 

<ive to a green old age, a dreamy witness of the total failure of 
his treason. 

It is of the men who fought, and dared and never flinched 
even when the supreme moment came, that we love to think 
to-day. Theirs is a name of honor, a record of deathless cour- 
age, that all true soldiers, North or South, must hold in respect 
and admiration. Even the victors could not see the dejected 
gray columns filing slowly westward in the dawn of that April 
Monday, without a thrill of sympathy for the brave fellows who 
had fought so long and well, only to come to this. We all know 
the story. That night of the 2d of April, blowing up the forts, 
burning the bridges behind him, Lee slowly fell back from 
Petersburg, making for Amelia Court-House, twenty-five miles 
to the west ; and Ewell, leaving Richmond in flames, pushed 
southwestward to join him. Early on Monday morning the Sixth 
Michigan sharp-shooters were waving their flags on the court- 
house in Petersburg, and a little squadron of cavalry, escorting 
two of General Weitzel's staff-officers, trotted through the curi- 
ous throngs in the Richmond streets, dismounted at the capitol, 
and there, taking from the pommel of his saddle the flag he had 
had in readiness for several days, Lieutenant J. L. DePeyster, a 
New York boy of eighteen, leaped up the steps with Captain Lang- 
don of the First regular artillery, and in a few moments the stars 
and stripes were thrown to the breeze in place of the humbled 
standard of rebellion. Richmond and Petersburg were at last 
taken, and there could be but few days more for the Southern 
army. 

It was Lee's hope to reach the Danville railway at Amelia 
Court-House, concentrate at that point, then fall back south- 
westward to Danville, and make a junction with the army of 
Joseph E. Johnston. It was the determination of Grant and 
Sheridan that he should do nothing of the kind. Lee expected 
Grant to follow on his track ; Grant decided to race and head 
him off; and once more Sheridan was called on to take the lead. 
At Amelia Court-House Longstreet, Gordon and Ewell united 
their wearied and hungry troops. Here was the railway, but 
where were the hoped-for supplies ? Sheridan had seized the 



SHERIDAN HEADS THE CHASE OF LEE. 771 

road ten miles to the southwest of them, and, with his troopers 
and the swift-footed Fifth corps, held and barred the way. 
Meade, with the Second and Sixth, was but a short distance 
behind him ; Grant, with Ord and the Twenty-fourth, farther to 
the south along the South Side railway. Lee found that he 
could not reach Danville ; but there was another hope : Lynch- 
burg, fifty miles west — Lynchburg and the neighboring moun- 
tains. Thither he turned his weary eyes, and, with Sheridan 
hanging to his bleeding flanks and worrying the column over 
every mile of road, the Southern leader strove to keep his men 
together and still push ahead. Almost every hour he had to 
turn and fight; first on one side, then on the other, in front, 
flank and rear ; small detachments of cavalry leaped upon his 
batteries or trains, lopping off a few guns, a score of wagons or 
an hundred prisoners at every cross-road, while behind him and 
on his left, pushed relentlessly ahead the now enthusiastic infan- 
try of the Army of the Potomac. Lucky were Lee's men who 
had an ear of corn to nibble ; lucky were Grant's who could 
snatch an hour of sleep. Night and day, for five successive 
suns, it was one vehement, never relaxing pursuit, varied only 
by the savage combats that attended Lee's every halt for breath. 
At Sailors' Creek, at Farmville, at High Bridge, where again 
they strode along the banks of Appomattox, there was bloody 
fighting ; but never for an instant could the Southern general 
shake off the death-grip of Sheridan ; never could he distance 
the inexorable pursuit of those long blue columns. Every day, 
every hour his men were dwindling away by whole thousands. 
He had full 40,000 at Amelia on the 5th, and at least one-fourth 
of these were gone when his staggering columns pushed on for 
the last march of all — the 8th of April. He had succeeded in 
crossing to the north side of the Appomattox now, leaving 
Ewell's corps, with Ewell himself, Kershaw, Custis Lee, Dubose, 
Hunton and Corse, as prisoners, a loss of fully 8,000 men sus- 
tained in one day ; and now, with Humphreys and Wright close 
behind him on the north side, and Sheridan's cavalry, Ord and 
Griffin's corps on the south side and even with his leading col- 
umns, Lee was striking for Appomattox Court-House, where 



772 *'IVE FORKS. 

supplies were awaiting him. Which could reach it first, Lee or 
Sheridan ? 

On the 7th Grant had written a few words to General Lee, 
pointing out to him the hopelessness of further resistance, and 
asking his surrender as the only means of avoiding further 
bloodshed. Lee replied that he did not regard his situation as 
hopeless, but inquired what terms would be offered. On the 
8th Grant had offered most lenient terms — the mere disqualifica- 
tion of all surrendered officers or men from again taking up 
arms until properly exchanged ; but Lee still hoped to escape. 
He counted on getting those supplies at Appomattox and then 
breaking for Lynchburg, only a long day's march away, and he 
declined. This correspondence was really conducted on the 
run, for both armies were pushed to the utmost in the race. But 
Lee stopped twice on the 7th and 8th to fight Humphreys, who 
was clinging to the rear with a grasp that threatened to pull him 
to earth, and the delay was fatal. Stopping for nothing, Sheri- 
dan's cavalry shot forward along the lower road, sprang upon 
the railway station beyond the Court-House, Custer's cheering 
troopers rode recklessly in among the coveted trains, and, long 
before the morning of the 9th, had whisked every vestige of 
supplies out of sight ; brigade after brigade came trotting up 
from the southeast and, deploying its skirmish lines up the 
Richmond road toward the Court-House, five miles away, 
whither Custer had already driven the advanced guard of Lee's 
army, sent forward with empty wagons for those desperately 
needed rations. Poor fellows ! Hungry, tired and foot-sore, 
they never thought to find the Yankees there first, but that 
night Lee knew that Sheridan's cavalry had " headed " him, and 
that now he must not only fight back the fierce pursuers so 
close at his rear — he must cut his way through those daring 
troopers in front. Still, thought he, it is only cavalry, and Gor- 
don's men can brush them away like a swarm of gnats. 

But that night Sheridan was driving back staff-officers and 
couriers to Grant, to Ord, to Griffin, urging, demanding " full 
speed ahead." He had at last thrown himself squarely across 
the beaten army's track. He would hold it firmly as cavalry 



THE WHITE FLAG HOISTED. 775 

could hold anything, but to block Lee entirely, to oppose in- 
fantry and batteries with infantry and batteries, he must have the 
Fifth and Twenty-fourth corps. " We will finish the job in the 
morning," he wrote, if Gibbon and Griffin could only reach him. 

Reach him they did ; but what a march ! Ord pushed the 
Twenty-fourth corps from daybreak on the 8th to daybreak on 
the 9th with only three hours' rest. Griffin trudged through the 
muddy roads twenty-six miles, until two o'clock in the morning, 
took a cat-nap in the woods until four, pushed on again, and 
reached Sheridan at six : just in time. 

Facing northeastward now, so as to confront the gray columns 
coming down the Richmond road, Sheridan deployed his dis- 
mounted skirmishers far out to the front, backed them up by 
strong cavalry reserves, and behind this veil of horsemen Ord 
formed the long solid lines of the infantry across the silent val- 
ley west of the Court-House. All unconscious of what was in 
store for them, Lee's men, obedient to the last, sprang forward 
with rolling volleys to dash aside the insolent troopers barring 
their path. Slowly the long lines fell back towards their wait- 
ing horses ; " Rally " and " Mount," rang the trumpet-calls, and, 
leaping lightly into saddle, the horsemen trotted gayly off to 
right and left, drawing the curtain from a picture before which 
Lee recoiled in dismay — the infantry, the Army of the Potomac. 

Then at last was he brought to bay. Forward he could not 
go, Sheridan, Ord and Griffin barred the way. Back he could 
not turn — Meade, Humphreys and Wright were thundering 
at his rear. Prompt action too was demanded, for Sheridan 
was fuming for instant attack. Lee sent requests to Humphreys 
begging him to hold off his men until he could communicate 
with Grant, but that thorough-going soldier replied that the re 
quest could not be complied with, and went on forming for 
attack on Longstreet who was facing him ; but just as he was 
about to launch his corps in to the assault, Meade arrived and 
ordered an hour's truce. On the other side, too, just as Sheri- 
dan was about to charge, a white flag was waved over the 
Southern lines and Generals Gordon and Wilcox rode forward 
to say that negotiations for surrender were already going on. 



^76 FIVE FORKS. 

If this were so, said Sheridan, what business had they to attack 
him and to persist in the attack up to the moment they dis- 
covered he was backed by infantry ? He was half-inclined to 
think it all a trick, a deception, and was fiercely striding up and 
down a little farm-yard when one of Grant's staff-officers rode 
up to him. " I've got 'em /" said he, vehemently ; " I've got 'em 
like that," clinching his muscular fist and setting his teeth, and 
it was plain to see that he hated to let go. 

But it was no trick. Grant himself speedily arrived, and, 
while his army completely encircled that of Lee, the two great 
leaders met at the humble house of farmer McLean, and there 
the surrender was quietly accomplished. In a few calm words 
the generals settled the preliminaries, and then affixed their 
signatures to the paper that disarmed and disbanded forever the 
gallant Army of Northern Virginia. 

One week ago, this still Sunday morning, the flight from Rich- 
mond and Petersburg had begun. Now in this humble farm- 
house, nearly an hundred miles to the westward, in this obscure 
and hitherto unmentioned valley, the closing scene of the 
greatest drama of our history was being enacted. In the bare 
country room, furnished with a plain wooden table and two or 
three rude chairs, Grant, Lee, each with an aide-de-camp, and 
subsequently Ord, Sheridan and a few staff-officers, were gathered. 
The two great chiefs presented a striking contrast. Lee, erect, 
soldierly, dignified and formally courteous, the beau-ideal of a 
chivalric soldier, accepting with calm fortitude his defeat — but- 
toned to the throat in his newest and most becoming uniform ; 
its stars and gold-lace fresh and untarnished ; his gauntlets em- 
broidered and spotless; his boots polished; his beautiful sword 
burnished and glittering ; his aide-de-camp as accurately attired 
as himself. Lee certainly had the advantage in personal ap- 
pearance over every man in the party. Grant, in a loose-fitting, 
unbuttoned uniform coat, with waistcoat and trowsers of un- 
military cut, and much splashed with mire, with muddy boots 
and not a symptom of sword or spur, with plain, Western man- 
ners, unkempt beard and a figure somewhat slouchy and round- 
shouldered — Grant assuredly looked very little like a conquer- 



LEE'S FORTITUDE GIVES WAY. 777 

mg hero, and probably felt very little like one. He had been 
ill on the march, and was sorely jaded and tired. The real 
hero of the picture, next to Lee — the real hero of the vehement 
pursuit and capture, next to nobody, was the sturdy trooper 
Sheridan. His form was snugly buttoned in the double-breasted 
frock coat of a major-general, the dress he wore on all occasions 
in the field ; his short legs were thrust deep into huge cavalry 
boots ; his eyes were still snapping with the flame of the morn- 
ing's fight ; his whole manner was so suggestive of the trick he 
had of hitching nervously forward in the saddle when things 
were not going exactly to suit him, that he looked to some pres- 
ent as though he were still half disposed to suspect some ruse 
— some trick, and was ready to spring to horse and pitch in 
again at an instant's notice. But there was no need. Lee's sur- 
render was an accomplished fact, and having signed the formal 
papers, the Southern leader remounted, and, saluted by all 
present, rode back to his own lines — back to the starving and 
still devoted men for whom he had this moment to beg bread. 
Here the calm fortitude that had borne him with gentle 
dignity through that painful interview at last gave way, and as 
he gazed down into the wan faces that thronged about him, great 
tears trickled down his furrowed cheeks. No such terms had 
ever been granted to insurgent armies in any previous surrender; 
his officers retained their swords and personal effects, and all 
were allowed, officers and men, to take home with them their 
horses. They were to be fed and cared for at once, and given 
free transportation over any government lines on their journeys 
homeward; they might continue to wear the old uniform so 
dear to them, except the insignia of rank; all that was required 
was the surrender of their arms, standards and munitions of war, 
and the individual pledge of the officers to take no further part in 
the war against the Union. " We have fought through the war 
together," he said brokenly to them : " I have done the best I 
could for you." 

Two days afterwards the muster-rolls of the Army of Northern 
Virginia were completed, and on the lovely morning of the 1 2th 
of April, while the Union troops stood at a distance, the Southern 



778 FIVE FORKS. 

divisions marched forth for the last time, halted, dressed their 
lines with old-time precision, then in solemn silence fixed bay- 
onets, stacked their arms, unbuckled and unslung the worn old 
belts and cartridge-boxes, hung them on the stacks, placed with 
them the tattered, smoke-stained flags,, which many of them 
bent to kiss with reverent farewell, and then, falling back from 
the lines, this last remnant of the Army of Northern Virginia 
dispersed forever. 

On the Union side no sign of exultation, no cheer, no taunt, 
no strain of stirring music was permitted. In soldierly silence 
■ — even in soldierly sympathy, the last act was witnessed, and 
then came the homeward march. The work of the Army of 
the Potomac at last was done. 

By actual figures the number of men turned over at Lee's 
surrender at Appomattox was 28,356. Of these nearly 15,- 
OOO were of Longstreet's corps ; 7,200 of Gordon's ; only 287 
of Ewell's (the rest having been killed or captured around 
Sailor's Creek and Farmville), and the others belonged to the 
cavalry, artillery and navy battalion and provost-guards. Some 
assertions have been made by Southern writers that only 8,000 
of those surrendered bore arms, but the circumstance would 
have no especial significance even were it true, for it was an 
easy matter to throw their rifles into the little streams or ponds 
or bury them in the thick woods, and whether in their hands or 
not, over 22,000 small arms were actually turned over at the 
surrender; while from the 29th of March to the 9th of April a 
total of 74,000 prisoners had been taken from the Southern 
ranks by Grant's army in Virginia. His losses during the same 
period were 9,944, and are given by General Humphreys, whose 
history of the closing campaign of the war is accepted by all 
soldiers as the most reliable and complete yet written. 

On the 25th of April General Johnston with his army sur- 
rendered to General Sherman ; others soon followed, and, ex- 
cept for a guerilla warfare across the Mississippi, speedily settled 
by " that inevitable Sheridan," as the Southerners had learned 
to call him, the war of the Rebellion was at an end. Foiled in 
their scheme of ruling or ruining the Great Republic, abandon- 




%s/ cc£si*vC£r&s 



ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 781 

ing the people whom they had dragged into such widespread 
misery and destitution, the leaders of the movement sought 
safety in flight, leaving behind them for the final blow one 
wretched yet fit instrument of their shameful and malignant 
hate. Even as the loyal North rejoiced in the glad incoming 
of peace — even as he, the patient, the gentle, the all-merciful, 
the generous, who had stood to the helm through all the fear- 
ful tempest, was now seeking how best to aid, how surest to 
bring back into the fold the suffering people of the South, 
cowardly murder robbed the Nation of Abraham Lincoln, and 
the war that had leaped into flame from the torch of treason 
sputtered out at last in the quenching life-blood of our martyred 
President. 






GRAVELOTTE. 




1870. 

APOLEON THE GREAT, the conqueror of 
Austerlitz and Jena, has been called a military 
despot, which he undoubtedly was : more than 
this he was a household despot and ruled the 
affairs of kith and kin as relentlessly as he did 
those of conquered states. He had raised 
the family from obscurity to fame and posi- 
^* tion, and demanded the right to dispose of 

them as he would. In furtherance of this doctrine he compelled 
his brother Louis Buonaparte in 1802 to marry Hortense Beau- 
harnais, daughter of Josephine. As Louis was avowedly in love 
with a cousin of the young lady in question, and the young lady 
herself was engaged to General Duroc, the match was unhappy 
from the start. Three sons were born to Hortense, and the 
third, Charles Louis Napoleon, who came into this world on the 
20th of April, 1808, rose to prominence in history, as Napoleon 
III., Emperor of the French. 

The eldest son died when a child; the second in 183 1, and 
Charles Louis Napoleon became heir to the Buonapartist claims 
to the throne of France. He led a life of adventure, conspiracy 
and intrigue ; was twice imprisoned for political crimes, when 
hanging would have more adequately punished the offence ; he 
was a fugitive from justice, and an exile here in our own country, 
where the New Jersey and Maryland Buonapartes turned the 
cold shoulder on him, and where neither his conduct nor his 
associates were particularly creditable ; and the death of the 
Duke of Reichstadt, the only legitimate son of the Emperor 
Napoleon, was followed by plot after plot on the part of this 
782 



CHARLES LOUIS NAPOLEON, EMPEROR. 783 

exiled nephew of the great emperor, aimed at the overthrow of 
the Bourbon king. In 1848 France broke out into another of 
her revolutions and essayed again to start a republic. Louis 
Napoleon, watching and waiting in England, slipped over at the 
opportune moment, and the old name was enough for the mer- 
curial, sensation-loving people ; he was elected President by an 
overwhelming vote. Three years afterwards, having obtained 
complete control of the Army and the Press of the nation, he 
seized and imprisoned the National Assembly, placed Paris 
under martial law, demanded an election for a term of ten years 
with power to name his own cabinet, and, when the people rose 
against such outrage, he slaughtered them without mercy ; 
5,000 men, women and children, natives and foreigners, were 
butchered ; thousands were sent away into exile or penal servi- 
tude, and having thus stamped out the " insurrection," crushed 
the leaders of the people, muzzled or bought the Press, and 
taken the nation by the throat, he demanded the free will offering 
of their votes. Naturally he carried the polls, and in December, 
1852, this Prince-President became Napoleon III., Emperor " By 
the Grace of God and the will of the French people." 

There is no question as to the ability of the man, and the 
brilliancy of his rule both as President and Emperor. France 
throve under his guidance; industries and improvements of 
every kind flourished throughout the land, and commerce 
developed as it never had before. The navy was built up and 
manned so as to rival even that of England, and the military 
spirit of the people was fostered by exercises and manoeuvres 
that made the army the pride and delight of the nation. Skill- 
fully avoiding all dissensions with the powerful monarchies 
around him, ignoring the slights of the crowned heads of 
Europe, he worked steadily, building up his strength and devel- 
oping his resources, until France became a power that had to be 
conciliated and fawned upon, and then even proud England was 
glad to enter into an alliance with her. Wily, scheming and 
unscrupulous, the new emperor successfully felt his way. Rail- 
ways, harbors, arsenals, manufactories sprang up in all direc- 
tions, labor was everywhere worthy its hire, money flowed in 



784 GRAVELOTTE. 

profusion, all was prosperity. Then came the Crimean war, 
and, while England fought and blundered with her invariable 
courage and accustomed stupidity, suffering all the hard knocks 
and getting none of the credit of the war, France laughingly 
praised her ally's pluck, condoned her faults, good-naturedly put 
up with her temporizing and delay around Sebastopol, helped her 
out when she got in a tight place, as at Inkermann, and reaped 
all the credit and glory that could well be extracted from that 
mismanaged war, while dexterously letting England foot the 
bills and butt her own head against the walls of the Russian 
stronghold. Napoleon III. came out in a blaze of triumph ; the 
French people were as ready to stand by him as ever they were 
to rally to the eagles of his uncle, and England's Queen had to 
decorate him, so lately an outcast in the London streets, with 
that priceless Order of the Garter, and to greet his beautiful but 
unknown wife with the kiss of royal sisterhood. The birth of 
the Prince Imperial in 1856 — a baby-boy who was said to 
strongly resemble his renowned grand-uncle — had strengthened 
the Napoleonic hold on the French people; and when the 
emperor himself went forth to lead the eagles of France in the 
Italian campaign against Austria in 1859, Europe had no sover- 
eign so popular, so fortunate. France had forgotten the bloody 
scenes of the coup d'etat of eight years before. 

But Louis Napoleon was now growing old; disease had 
begun to tell upon him ; death might come at any time, and he 
felt that, to secure the throne to his son, still further glories 
must be brought through his guidance, to France. At the mo- 
ment there was no opportunity in Europe, but our own civil war 
enabled him to make a lodgment in Mexico — a blow aimed as 
much at the United States as at the struggling republic on our 
borders. England would not join him in his scheme for the 
recognition of the Southern Confederacy. Mexico proved too 
strong for Maximilian, whom the emperor had planted on the 
throne, and then abandoned when he found that our quarrel was 
settled and his troops would be useless. Then he turned back 
to the frontiers of France. The outbreak of a war between 
Prussia and Austria in 1866 gave him a coveted opportunity. 




CHARLES LOUIS NAPOLEON, 
(Napoleon III.) 



INTRIGUING WITH RIVAL CONTESTANTS. 7§7 

He offered Austria the aid of France provided she would inake 
over to him the Rhine provinces and Belgium as his share of 
the to-be-conquered territory, and Austria declined. Then this 
two-faced plotter turned to Prussia and offered to help her for 
the consideration of Baden and Wurtemberg ; and Prussia did 
not need his help and would not have it if she did, and told him 
so in diplomatic but emphatic terms. Then, to his amaze, in 
seven weeks Prussia had completely thrashed the armies of 
proud Austria, and Napoleon woke up to a realizing sense of the 
fact that here was a military nation it behooved him to beware 
of. Now his whole attention was turned to Prussia, the nation 
that had so relentlessly striven against his uncle and patron 
saint — and that was destined to humble him and his forever. 

Led by old " Marshal Vorwaerts," the Prussian armies, as we 
have seen, had come in just at the opportune moment at Water- 
loo, and chased the dejected Frenchmen back to Paris ; but the 
humiliation of the Jena year was not to be avenged by a divided 
triumph. Under Frederick the Great the military system of 
Prussia rose superior to all Europe, but her stern preparations 
languished with his death, and the wars with Napoleon showed 
her soldiers that they had fallen behind. England took a long 
breath and a national nap after Waterloo, fondly imagining that 
British pluck and brawn and loyalty would win anywhere and 
against anybody, and that study, drill and exercise were only 
for nations less favored by Divine Providence with the attributes 
of conquerors. Prussia went to work with a will. Surrounded 
as she was by old-time enemies on every side, her geographical 
position made her cautious. Sweden, Russia, Austria, France 
and Denmark lay around her like a cordon of wolves, and all 
the beautiful German provinces — Baden, Wurtemberg, Bavaria 
to the south, and the Rhineland and Belgium towards the west, 
were only half-friendly to Prussian interests. Nothing but the 
possession of the most perfect military machine in the world 
would enable the Prussians to hold their own ; and with rare 
patience, skill and diligence they set themselves at the task. 
Every able-bodied man became a soldier; every brilliant mind 
was levied upon for its contribution to the perfection of that 



788 GRAVELOTTE. 

machine on which the nation was at work. Forty years after 
Waterloo, when France, England and Turkey clinched with 
Russia in the Crimea, Prussia calmly compared their military 
shortcomings with her own advancement, and marvelled at the 
unprogressive management that sent the armies of three great 
powers into conflict, armed with the despised old smooth-bore 
musket, or the faulty and untried rifles of Minie, Delvigne and 
the new Enfield system ; while she, Prussia, had since '48 taught 
her troops the use and benefit of the breech-loader — the now 
famous needle-gun of Dreyse. > 

Wonderful changes had been made in the fire-arms of Europe 
in the last century. The old match-lock and wall-piece had dis- 
appeared before Marlborough fought at Blenheim, and " Brown 
Bess," the flint-lock, stepped in as the British soldier's pet and 
pride. So conservative is the Englishman, that for a century 
and a half that long, cumbrous, unreliable old musket, with few 
modifications, remained his favorite weapon of war. Adopting 
the bayonet from the French, he dropped the match for the flint 
and steel, and, for years, that clumsy appliance satisfied the 
armies of Europe, though the Americans, with their squirrel- 
rifles, well-nigh annihilated the British grenadiers on a dozen 
fields. Then came the handy little percussion-cap, and the 
military mechanism of " load " was reduced from fifteen to nine 
motions. Still it was Brown Bess that went to war late as 1846. 
In the 50's the armies of Europe had to adopt the grooved rifle- 
barrel, the elongated ball, and practice at long range ; and still 
they were a decade behind Prussia; for all Christendom was 
aghast when, in 1866, the armies of that rigid little kingdom 
marched to Sadowa, and there, despite a blunder that ought to 
have cost them the battle, swept out an empire with their breech- 
loaders. Prussia became the nucleus, the acknowledged leader 
of the North German Confederation. Austria fell back discom- 
fited, and Louis Napoleon, on the throne of France, marked with 
infinite chagrin the leap to prominence and power of the most 
implacable enemy of his house. 

Of course all Europe saw the necessity of immediate change 
of armament- Inventions ^ r breecb-loading rifles were eagerly 




ARMS AND ACCOUTREMENTS OF THE 19TH CENTURA 

(For description, see next page.) 



Arms and Accoutrements of the 19th Century. 



Numbers refer to Illustrations on preceding page. 



i. Needle Gun. 

2. Chassepot. 

3. Springfield Rifle. 

4. Martini-Henry Rifle. 

5. Vitterlin Gun. 

6. Werndl Rifle. 

7. Revolver. 

8. Cartridge and Ball. 

9. Rifle Ball. 

10. Bayonet. 

1 1. Officer's Sword. 

12. Sabre. 

1 3. Cavalry Sabre. 
14 Sabre Bayonet. 

15, (6, 17, 18. Standards. 

19 Drum. 

20 Cartridge Box. 
21, Trumpet. 

22 Cuirass. 



23. Knapsack. 

24. Canteen. 

25. Krupp 12-inch Gun and 

Cartridge. 

26. Section of Conical Steel 

Shot. 

27. Ramrod and Wiper. 

28. Gatling Gun. 

29. Parrott Gun. 

30. Siege Gun. 

3 1 . 3 2 » 33- Artillery Cartridges. 

34. Armstrong Gun. 

35. Mortar. 

36. Round Shot. 

37. Sea-Coast Gun. 

38. Krupp Mortar and Carriage. 
39 to 56. Modern Military Caps 

Hats and Helmets. 



THE PRUSSIAN NEEDLE-GUN. 791 

rewarded, tested, and several systems were adopted. Let us 
take a brief look at those which were best known in 1870. 
First the " Ziindnadelgewehr," Prussia's famous needle-gun. 
Thirty years Herr Dreyse labored over his invention, and the 
principle on which his splendid arm is working to-day is pre- 
cisely that which secured its adoption in Berlin in 1848. Slight 
modifications appear in the cartridge, but the gun is substanti- 
ally the same. Compared with the beautiful weapons turned 
out of late years in American armories, the Prussian needle-gun 
looks somewhat old-fashioned and clumsy ; it certainly weighs 
too much — twelve pounds ; but it has stood the test of three 
wars, and, bulky as it is, the mechanism works admirably, rarely 
gets out of order, and it shoots straight and well, far as a man 
can see to aim with any precision, so the Prussians swear by it. 

The breech apparatus and needle-lock consist substantially 
of three hollow cylinders working smoothly one within the 
other ; the innermost contains a solid steel bolt, and to this bolt 
is firmly fastened the steel needle. To load the gun, the breech- 
handle is drawn back, a long slit opens in the upper side of the 
breech, the cartridge is dropped in the slit, the handle pushed 
forward and locked, by which movement the cartridge is firmly 
set in its position with the point of the needle just touching the 
base of the paper shell. A short upright handle back of the 
chamber brings the gun to full cock, and compresses the spiral 
spring which controls the needle-bolt ; a firm pull on the trigger 
releases the spring, the heavy bolt flies forward driving the nee- 
dle through the paper base and through the powder, until its 
point strikes a cap of fulminate placed at the base of the bullet, 
fire flashes at once, the piece is discharged and the bore is wiped 
out by the cartridge-paper. The odd thing about the explosion 
of this cartridge is, that it begins from the front instead of the 
base, as is the system with all other modern war rifles. 

Now when France decided that she too must have a breech- 
loader to match that of Prussia, the inspector-general of arms, M. 
Chassepot, came out with his invention in 1863, and, with im- 
provements adopted in 1866, the gun became the arm of the 
French infantry in time for the next great war. It was lighter, 



792 GRAVELOTTE. 

it was handier, it shot with what is called a flatter trajectory ; 
that is, its bullet in going a given distance did not have to rise 
as high as the Prussian ; but it had serious defects. The breech 
was closed by the method known as "internal obduration," the 
escape of gas being checked by thrusting the chamber into the 
barrel ; the barrel would foul in rapid firing, in which case the 
chamber would not enter, the excitable Frenchmen would ham- 
mer, shake or blow into their guns and so make bad worse. The 
Chassepot proved one of the many failures of their great war, 
and, in common with some other European nations, France 
came to America for her next gun, and America by this time 
was ready to supply the world. Of our own systems of breech- 
loading fire-arms (single-shooters), the best known to-day are 
those which were already leaders when France, Turkey, Egypt 
and other old-world nations sent agents here for the purpose 
of selection and purchase. The Sharp, the Remington, the 
Springfield, the Ward-Burton and the Peabody-Martini, have all 
had enthusiastic adherents and marked success ; the Peabody- 
Martini has proved to be the most wonderful gun for long-range 
fire in the world, as the Russians found when it came to the last 
war with Turkey ; but while they all differ in principle and con- 
struction, all have their merits, and all have stood the wear and 
tear of hard service (except the Ward-Burton, which did not 
prove a success on our dusty frontier), none were well enough 
known in Europe to be available when the great Franco-Prus- 
sian war broke out. After that, France sent for our Remington, 
and Prussia clung the more enthusiastically to her honest old 
needle-gun. Soldiers are the most conservative of men. Every 
improvement in fire-arms leads to a change in tactics, but sol- 
diers hate to change, and the older they get the more are they 
prone to cling to the systems and methods of their early days. 
The writer well remembers how contemptuously the rank and 
file of a German volunteer regiment rejected in 1861 the beau- 
tiful Springfield rifle just turned out from the national armory. 
A neighboring organization from the same State had been tem- 
porarily supplied with the cumbrous, brass-bound, big-bored 
Belgian tige rifle, and our Germans demanded the same. " Dis 



THE NAPOLEON GUN. 793 

vass no goot," said the spokesman, disdainfully dandling the 
new Springfield. "Bat vass bei Vaterloo," and, as young soldiers 
are apt to be led by the traditions of the " old hands," it was with 
difficulty the regiment could be persuaded that the Belgian gun 
that possibly " fought at Waterloo " was far behind the age. 
France, in ordering her first breech-loader of M. Chassepot, made 
but one restriction — nothing must be copied from Prussia. The 
Chassepot was adopted, but before it had been fairly tested — 
long before the nation had learned how to use it — Louis Napo- 
leon led them into a terrific war, and was a ruined man in thirty 
days. 

Now the French had long laid claim to the distinction of 
being the most martial people of Europe. Led by Napoleon 
the First, Frenchmen had been well-nigh invincible. Algeria, 
the Crimea and Italy had seen much that warranted the belief 
that no other nation possessed such soldiers. They conquered 
Arabs and Algerines, and readily adapted themselves to the 
brilliant tactics and dispersed order required in fighting over 
sandy wastes. They battled with far greater skill (though none 
could fight with greater pluck) than their allies, the English, 
around Sebastopol ; and Napoleon III. reaped glory and do- 
minion from the successful campaign in which his armies 
fought and whipped the Austrians at Magenta and Solferino. 
He prided himself upon being, like his uncle, a skilled artillerist, 
and, having bought the invention of an impoverished captain, he in- 
troduced as his own creation the light twelve-pounder — a bronze, 
smooth-bore, chambered gun that was admirable for short-range 
fighting, and was immensely popular in America during the war 
of the rebellion. Indeed, many of our most distinguished battery 
commanders, from first to last, preferred the smooth-bore Napo- 
leon with its resonant roar and its ponderous mass to the lighter, 
handier, ten-pounder Parrott rifle, or the three-inch rifled " ord- 
nance gun." Certainly Napoleon III. had good reason to be 
proud of the gun that bore his name even when he experimented 
with rifled cannon against the Austrians, for at all ranges under 
two miles, his gun-howitzers proved the equals, if not the su- 
periors, of the French-made muzzle-loading rifles. But, feeling 



794, GRAVELOTTE. 

the need of a machine gun to cope with the American Gatling, 
which began to be known about the close of the war of the 
States, and was being vastly improved and offered for sale abroad 
in 1 869, Louis Napoleon had caused to be adopted a volleying gun 
of French invention and manufacture, a cumbrous machine that 
looked like a huge pepper-box on wheels; and, with much 
mystery of manufacture and ominous whisperings of its death- 
dealing power, the mitrailleuse was introduced to the French 
artillery, and other European powers curiously sought an oppor- 
tunity of testing this new engine of which so much was prom- 
ised. It would sweep away whole regiments ; it would squirt 
ounce bullets a mile and a half; it would be artillery and infan- 
try combined, for, unlike other batteries, it could defend itself 
against infantry attack. All manner of things were promised 
for this French invention ; yet the Prussian agents who took a 
look at it went back to Berlin without being much impressed. 
Napoleon would copy the ideas of no other nation. He declared 
his belief that with his mitrailleuse and the Chassepot, he could 
fight any power in the world. Wise counsellors whispered to 
him of new breech-loading field-guns manufactured by Herr 
Krupp of Essen. They were of steel, very light, and very pow- 
erful. Three men could serve them with rapidity and ease, and 
they would carry three miles with the accuracy of a target rifle ; 
but Napoleon pinned his faith to his antiquated smooth-bore — 
a " boomer " that would have delighted Frederick the Great, but 
made his grandchildren laugh in their sleeves. Wise counselors 
pointed out the ease and rapidity with which Prussia " mobilized " 
her armies, and could put 500,000 men into the field and en route 
for the frontiers in forty-eight hours. France could do more 
than that. According to his papers the emperor of the French 
had in readiness for action, completely armed, equipped and in- 
structed, 800,000 men — one-half in the active army, one-half in 
the reserves ; and to further strengthen this array, there stood 
half a million of national guardsmen. Sublime in his faith and 
fatuity, Napoleon never looked behind the face of the returns — 
never dreamed that more than half these numbers were in verity 
but paper soldiers. Bent on his project of firmly planting him- 



PRUSSIA ON THE ALERT. 795 

self and his race on the throne of France, and in the hearts 
of the French people, knowing well that no influence would 
be with them so potent as military renown, he determined 
on challenging the most powerful nation of Europe to mortal 
combat, and the nation of all others that from hereditary hatred 
France would be most willing to fight. He threw down the 
gauntlet to Prussia, who, all these years, had been studiously, 
diligently, scientifically training for just such a contingency. 
Far-sighted statesmen knew it must come, and so, while the 
light-hearted soldiers of France were dancing, singing and chat- 
ting over the glories of the past, the solemn Prussians were 
studying every line of French topography, every stone of French 
fortifications, and, when the great war finally burst forth, Prussia 
launched through " the corn-fields green and sunny vines " a 
host of skilled, vigilant, practised staff-officers, any one of whom 
knew more about the roads, resources, forts, bridges, railways, 
stores, arsenals and supplies of the "pleasant land of France," 
than the best of her gallant generals. " In time of peace prepare 
for war," was the advice of our great Washington. We laud his 
memory, but scoff at that much of his advice. The Prussians 
are wise in their generation, and had been preparing for years. 
Let us glance at their leaders, and then go on to the armies of 
the two nations. 

In 1870 the head of the Prussian nation was Friedrich Lud- 
wig Wilhelm, better known as William I., King of Prussia. He 
was seventy-three years old when the war broke out, was the 
second son of Frederick William III., and a grand-nephew of 
Frederick the Great, who, having died childless, had left his 
throne to a nephew. Following the warrior-King of Prussia 
came in succession three rulers, whose reigns were as inglori- 
ously weak as grim old Fritz's had been superbly strong. Fred- 
erick William II. died in 1797, after a brief and disastrous tenure 
of office. Frederick William III. was virtuous, amiable and 
meek, and Napoleon trampled him under foot in merciless and 
inhuman style, humiliating him in every possible way. His 
two sons were witnesses in their boyhood, to all the indignities 
inflicted by Napoleon upon the king and his people. Later they 



796 GRAVELOTTE. 

had the satisfaction of seeing the oppressor vanquished in 1814, 
and crushed at Waterloo. Frederick William IV., the elder of 
these two sons, reigned from 1840 until his mental health gave 
way, then the younger brother took the reins, and, in i860, 
became king on his own account. From that time forth Prussia 
has had a ruler to be proud of. Educated a soldier, leading a 
soldier's life from earliest boyhood, William, King of Prussia 
and Emperor of United Germany lived beyond the allotted 
three-score years and ten, to a robust and vigorous manhood — 
to an old age of honor, wisdom and strength seldom attained byt 
any modern monarch. Firm, positive, obstinate as was his dis- 
position in early life he became unpopular among the people ; 
but better counsels prevailed with advancing years, and the 
purity, integrity and dignity of his character won their way 
into the hearts of the earnest Germans, and " Kaiser Wilhelm " 
was, at eighty-six years of age, as deservedly loved as he 
is deservedly honored. His army was his especial care and 
pride, and never has military science been so thoroughly 
taught or so keenly appreciated as during his wise and provi- 
dent reign. Old almost as his imperial master, the modest- 
mannered little man, who guided the armies of Germany, stood 
intellectually head and shoulders over any soldier in Europe. 
Count von Moltke was the military giant of his day. To him is 
due the absolute perfection of the German military system and 
the unrivalled proficiency of the German staff. With von 
Moltke and von Roon at the head of the War Department, and 
that long-headed chancellor, Bismarck, directing the affairs of 
state, with her regular army of 450,000 men admirably led, dis- 
ciplined and equipped, Prussia stood in no especial fear of 
France, yet courted no difficulty. All the same if Napoleon saw 
fit to be aggressive, one can fancy the grim satisfaction with 
which the rumors of entanglements were received. Napoleon 
expected to find Prussia single-handed. Prussia knew that the 
South German States would stand by her in a war with France. 
In threatening Prussia, Napoleon menaced the whole North 
German Confederation. In assaulting her, he aroused all Ger- 
many. Differences that might have existed when no common 




FRIEDRICH LUDWIG WILHELM. 
(William I., King of Prussia.) 



THE THUNDERBOLT OF SADOWA. 799 

snemy hovered over the frontier, were forgotten at his appear- 
ance. Baden and Bavaria, Wurtemberg, and even Saxony, 
leaped into line side by side with Prussia, of whose power all 
had grown jealous, but whose power and prowess made her now 
the acknowledged leader — the nucleus of the grand defence of 
the beloved Fatherland. Napoleon the Great would have made 
no such miscalculations as these, which, at the very outset, 
stamped with the seal of ruin the designs of his nephew. The 
war of 1866 had taught the latter only half a lesson. He had 
learned to look with jealous dread upon the vast strides made 
by Prussia, but he had failed to look within and satisfy himself 
as to whether corresponding improvement had been maintained 
in the military system of France. He could see how, left to 
themselves, jealousies and bickerings might disturb the harmony 
of that family of sisters — the German States. He could not see 
how, when threatened by an outsider, the entire sisterhood 
would rally like a flash to the support of the eldest and strong- 
est, against whom, but a moment before, they lavished their 
spiteful comments. South Germany, that is to say, such States 
as Baden, Bavaria and Wurtemberg, had largely, and Saxony 
had unanimously, sided with Austria in the war with Prussia, 
but when Prussia's three armies leaped across their frontiers the 
instant their defection became apparent and drove their astonished 
forces back upon Austrian territory to the supporting arms of the 
renowned Field-Marshal Benedek, and then, daring to concentrate 
his armies upon instead of before, the day of decisive battle, the 
Prussian king fearfully whipped the entire disposable field-forces of 
the empire, these wise South Germans decided that in future wars 
their safest plan would be to stand by Prussia, for, despite the 
military blunder by which King William utterly underrated the 
Austrian force in his front at Koniggratz, and which prompted 
him to undertake the attack while the army of the Crown Prince 
was still fifteen miles away, he won the bloody fight at an ex- 
pense of 9,000 killed and wounded among his own forces, against 
over 16,000 Austrians dead and crippled, taking, too, over 
20,000 prisoners and 174 cannon. This great victory of Sadowa 
settled the question as to who was to be mistress of United Ger- 



800 GRAVELOTTE. 

many ; but Napoleon III. was wild enough to believe that at his 
beck and call, the South Germans would cut loose the new ties 
that united their interests with those of Prussia. He never made 
a worse mistake, unless it was when he thought to establish a 
French-made monarchy in Mexico. Prussia must be humbled, 
he said ; a pretext was all that was necessary. 

All this time he had, unsuspected, a powerful ally in his 
scheme — ally and enemy in one ; a man who meant to help him 
find a pretext for war with Prussia, meant to make the pretext 
so flimsy as to render the demands of France tantamount to in- 
sult, throw the whole burden of the blame on Napoleon, and, 
having goaded, guided and snared him into a declaration of war, 
then to turn to and thrash him with vehement and irresistible 
power. That man was Bismarck, the shrewdest statesman in 
Christendom, the subtle ruler of both the German king and the 
German people. 

Spain needed a new monarch. Queen Isabella had been 
exiled; the provisional government sent to invite Prince Leopold 
of Hohenzollern — a Prussian subject, and very probably Bis- 
marck's own candidate — to take the vacant throne. With 
hostile Prussia on his eastern frontier, Napoleon wanted no 
better excuse than this project of seating a Prussian on the 
throne to the southwest of France. His nation was burning 
with eagerness for a fight somewhere, and none so welcome as 
with Prussia. Napoleon demanded that the king should refuse 
to permit Prince Leopold to accept the Spanish crown on the 
ground that his reign would be a perpetual menace to France. 
Count Benedetti, a fiery and impetuous little Corsican, was the 
envoy of France at Berlin, and his conduct was such as to 
justify the impression that on the 13th of July flashed through- 
out Germany, that France had instructed him in a studied in- 
sult to the Prussian king. Two interviews had already taken 
place, in which the manner of the count was characterized by a 
vehemence and energy that is considered discourtesy in diplomatic 
affairs ; but France's excuse for war was at an end when Prince 
Leopold of his own accord signified his withdrawal. It even looks 
as though this too had been the move of Bismarck, who meant to 




PRINCE LEOPOLD OF HOHENZOLLERN. 



THE DECLARATION OF WAR. 803 

leave to the Emperor of France no valid pretext for his dicta- 
torial course ; but not to withdraw every exciting cause until so 
much had been done in the way of menace and bluster that 
France could not then escape the toils. 

On July 1 2th Benedetti knew that Prince Leopold had with- 
drawn, and that some further pretext must be resorted to. 
King William on the 13th was calmly promenading near the 
public fountain at Ems, when Benedetti, regardless of all 
etiquette governing such matters, then and there demanded of 
the king a pledge that never in the future would Prussia permit 
one of her princely houses to take the Spanish crown, and the 
bluff old soldier-monarch very properly and promptly refused. 
France swore he turned his back on her envoy, and whether he 
did or not, the snub would have been deserved. The very next 
day all Europe knew that war would be the result, and, at two 
o'clock on the afternoon of July 15th, France flashed her 
declaration to the world. War was announced with Prussia 
because of — first, the insult offered at Ems to Count Benedetti ; 
second, the refusal of Prussia to compel the withdrawal of 
Leopold as a candidate for the Spanish succession (the idea 
of compelling a man to do a thing he had already done volun- 
tarily !) and third, the fact that the king refused to interfere with 
the prince's personal liberty in the matter of accepting or declin- 
ing the throne. 

Both nations had been preparing for five years for this very 
emergency — Prussia with all diligence and care, France with 
apparent assiduity. On paper the army of the latter was con- 
siderably the stronger, and in point of naval force Prussia was 
far behind ; but with the war, the navy had little to do. Rely- 
ing on the reports of his ministers and generals, Napoleon 
believed his army, both in point of numbers and efficiency, fully 
equal to that of Prussia. In point of daring and devotion he 
believed it far superior. Relying on the power of his own 
machinations, he believed that the South German States would 
now abandon their alliance with Prussia and leave her to her 
fate. But all Germany sprang to arms when the arrogant 
demands of France and the rudeness of her minister were made 



804 GRAVELOTTE. 

known ; and at the very outbreak of hostilities, Napoleon the 
Third was confronted by two unlooked-for catastrophes. First : 
United Germany, not unaided Prussia, replied with defiance to 
his challenge. Second : Fraud of the worst order had been 
practised with the army returns for years past. Pay and cloth- 
ing had been drawn for men whose only existence was by 
name on paper, and, among the reserves at least, nearly three- 
fifths of the entire force were absolutely not to be found when 
summoned to the colors ; France had been systematically 
swindled by officials high in public trust. Even in the regular 
army there had been astonishing fraud, and, not until too late to 
retract, did Napoleon find that his reliable force fell short of his 
estimate fully one-half. 

But France had a population of some 38,000,000, and the 
nation took up the war in glorious earnest. Senate and people 
in a flush of enthusiasm pledged unlimited men and money and 
devotion for the cause, and for the moment all was loyalty to 
Napoleon. " On to Berlin ! " was the cry. No Frenchman 
could doubt that there along the banks of the Spree, the nephew 
of the conqueror of Jena would dictate a peace as glorious as 
that of Tilsit. "Where shall I address your letters?" asked 
eager Parisians of the departing soldiery. "Poste rcstante, Berlin" 
was the confident reply. On July 19th the formal declaration 
of war reached the Prussian cabinet. Both nations leaped 
forward to grapple on the frontier. The little river Saar became 
the dividing line; Saarbruck, a little village just outside the 
French territory, the point where the first blow fell. On July 
20th a French skirmisher was shot by a Prussian fusileer. On 
the 23d, Prussia sent a reconnoitring party over towards St. 
Avoid, and exchanged shots with the light dragoons of France. 
On the 26th a scouting force of Frenchmen fell back before the 
German Uhlans, and so on to the 1st of August, while the 
armies swarmed to the front, there were lively little rallies and 
skirmishes among the first arrivals. On the 2d of August 
France had her available force on the frontier, and thought her- 
self ready to leap into Germany. On the same day Prussia had 
the bulk of her army west of the Rhine, and knew herself ready 
to leap into France. 



GERMAN AND FRENCH LEADERS. 805 

According to returns, which, even as late as August, exag- 
gerated his numbers, Napoleon had gathered along a line of 
some eighty-five miles about 350,000 men. His right wing 
faced the Lauter; his centre the Saar; his left the Moselle. 
Against them marched three German armies, with a fourth in 
support, aggregating on that front alone some 560,000 men. 
The First Army, composed of the First, Seventh and Eighth 
corps, and led by General Steinmetz, advanced against the French 
left along the Moselle. The Second Army, composed of the 
Second, Third, Ninth and Tenth corps, and led by Prince Fried- 
rich Karl (the Red Prince), advanced upon the French centre 
along the Saar. The Third Army, composed of the Fifth, 
Sixth and Eleventh corps, the two Bavarian corps, and led by 
the Crown Prince of Prussia (" Unser Fritz "), advanced against 
the French right along the Lauter. The Fourth Army, com- 
posed of the Fourth and Twelfth corps and the Saxon and Prus- 
sian Guards, and led by the Crown Prince of Saxony, marched 
with the German centre. The Fifth Army, mainly Wurtem- 
berg and Baden troops, under General Werder, was directed to 
attack Strasburg on the Rhine. The Sixth and Seventh Armies 
defended the northern coast. Each German corps had a nominal 
strength of 40,000 men. 

Gallant soldiers, so far as courage and devotion went, were 
they who confronted these disciplined German masses. The 
emperor had not yet reached the front, and the army corps 
were for the moment acting somewhat independently of one 
another. They were composed, with one exception, of 30,000 
men each (the First corps had 45,000), and commanded as fol- 
lows : First corps, MacMahon ; Second corps, Frossard ; Third 
corps, Bazaine ; Fourth corps, L'Admirault ; Fifth corps, De 
Failly; Sixth corps, Canrobert; Seventh corps, Douay; Eighth 
corps (Guards), Bourbaki. The cavalry was estimated at 34,000. 
Artillery and reserves 40,000 more. 

On the 2d of August the emperor and his boy-prince arrived 
and witnessed the skirmishing between Frossard's men and the 
Prussians at Saarbruck. " Louis has received his baptism of fire/' 
telegraphed the emperor to Eugenie, whom he had left at Paris. 



806 GRAVELOTTE. 

Poor mother ! Her only child was at the front when the crash 
came. One can but look with sympathy and sorrow upon the 
wreck of all those high hopes and fond aspirations when the 
gallant boy who had his soldier's baptism at Saarbruck, faced 
his soldier's death, dauntless though deserted, fighting England's 
savage foes when English friends had fled, in that wretched 
jungle in South Africa only so short a while ago. "The sol- 
diers wept at his tranquillity," wired Napoleon. They would 
have wept the more could they have foreseen his hopeless rally 
and lonely struggle for life against those swarming Zulus. It 
would have been better for the Napoleonic cause had the bullet 
he picked up at Saarbruck found its billet then and there in 
his boyish heart. 

On August 4th the Crown Prince of Prussia swooped with 
his army across the Lauter, and, to the amaze of France, 
whipped MacMahonand seized Weissenburg, the key to Alsace. 
On the 5th the First Army crossed the Saar. On the 6th two 
great battles were fought, and, despite severe losses in killed 
and wounded, and most determined gallantry on part of the 
French, German system, science and tactics prevailed ; Mac- 
Mahon was terribly beaten at Woerth by " Unser Fritz," losing 
18,000 in killed, wounded and prisoners, and being driven back 
in great disorder towards Metz ; while, still farther to the north, 
old Steinmetz with the First Army fought and won the bloody 
fight of Forbach or Spicheren Heights, and drove Frossard 
back on parallel roads with MacMahon's dismayed remnants, 
until they met the sheltering forces of Bazaine. The grand ad- 
vance of France on Berlin was turned into ghastly rout. Na- 
poleon was stunned. On the 7th a proclamation to the French 
people, signed by the Empress-regent, Eugenie, reluctantly con- 
fessed the disaster; and by orders of the emperor Marshal 
Lebceuf was dismissed from the command of the army; Bazaine 
was raised to his place ; Trochu, hitherto disliked by the em- 
peror, was made military governor of Paris ; Ollivier was required 
to resign his office as prime-minister, and Palikao became premier 
in his stead. Napoleon was just waking up to the realization of 
the befogged condition in which his chief advisers had kept him. 



MOLTKE'S PRECISE CALCULATIONS. 807 

But it was too late now. Like a mighty torrent the armies of 
Germany surged over the frontier and pushed forward towards 
the great fortifications of Metz. The king himself had come 
with the army of the Red Prince. With him were two wonder- 
ful men, Bismarck, the statesman, and Moltke, " The Silent." 
The former to advise, almost to dictate, every move in statecraft ; 
the latter to be the real commander-in-chief. Modest, shy in 
manner, unassuming in dress and deportment, having only two 
apparent passions, whist and snuff, this marvellous little general 
came upon the field and quietly took general charge of the ad- 
vance. Nothing had been a surprise to him. He expected 
just such results. He counted upon just such victories. He 
knew every inch of the French territory. He knew that now 
only one hope remained to the beaten emperor — that of uniting 
his shattered commands and falling back fighting to the lines 
of Paris. And now, as though it had all been discussed and 
planned years before, Moltke made his moves to destroy those 
hopes and projects. 

MacMahon, with some 60,000 men, all he could rally from 
half a dozen corps, was by this time falling back to the towns 
of Nancy and Toul, with the intention of retreating to Paris by 
way of Chalons on the Marne, where was an immense fortified 
camp. Bazaine, with a much larger army, fully 150,000 strong, 
was retiring before the hammering Prussians towards Metz. 
MacMahon expected to reach Chalons undisturbed; to be 
joined there by vast reinforcements now hurrying forward from 
Paris, and to keep in communication with Bazaine. To his 
amaze, the army of the German Crown Prince leaped the Moselle 
in pursuit, raced his rearguard through Nancy and Toul, and 
cut off all communication between him and his baffled and be- 
wildered emperor, then waiting at Metz for the result of Bazaine's 
manceuvrings. Bazaine could not strike at the Prussian Third 
Army rushing past his right flank in vehement pursuit of Mac- 
Mahon, for there, with the Second Army, stood the Red Prince 
daring him to try it, and all the time old Steinmetz with his 
superb First Army was beating him back from village to village. 
On the 1 3th of August Frossard breathlessly reported his arrival 



808 GRAVELOTTE. 

in front of Metz to his new general-in-chief, adding the mourn- 
ful tidings that all Prussia was at his heels; and Bazaine, drawing 
in his lines for one gallant rally on the east bank of the Moselle 
in front of the city, learned, to his dismay, that it was useless 
to fight there. That bold rider, the Red Prince, was crossing 
the river twenty miles above him (to the south) at Pont-a-Mous- 
son. What could that mean ? It flashed upon him quick enough : 
Von Moltke was circling around him from the south ; meant to 
pen him up in Metz, and thus rob France at once and for all of 
the services of her most powerful army. He had not an instant 
to lose. The emperor, taking the boy-prince with him, slipped 
out while there was yet time, leaving to the inhabitants of the 
city an ingenious proclamation, beginning : " On quitting you to 
fight the invaders," and confiding to them the defence of the 
great city of Metz. Bazaine did his best to get his army across 
the Moselle and out of the trap ; but while Freidrich Karl with 
the Second Army was sweeping around his right flank, racing 
him over the river, Steinmetz leaped like a panther on the re- 
treating columns before they reached the cover of the forts. The 
Second Army threw its foremost corps up from the south, and 
Bazaine had to turn to fight them off. All day Sunday, the 
14th, the savage battles raged east and south of Metz ; severe 
losses were sustained by both sides, but despite all the devoted 
heroism of the French, those stolid, marvellously disciplined 
Germans pressed on, and by night their left wing was facing 
northward along the heights commanding the great highways 
from Metz to the west. Now Bazaine could not escape that way. 
France woke up to the realization of another most unwelcome 
fact: "Those hated Prussians could fight like the very devil." 
Despite the severity of their losses — despite the absolute slaughter 
of some of their advanced battalions, nothing seemed to check 
their predestined moves. With relentless purpose their corps 
commanders hurled their men at the designated positions, and, 
though thousands might fall, other thousands swarmed over 
them, and weight and numbers told with fatal force. 

The main road from the great city to the greater cities to the 
west runs a tortuous course through rock and ravine, over boldly 



RESISTLESS ADVANCE OF PRUSSIA. 809 

rolling country, among wooded heights and boulder-strewn hill- 
sides until it reaches the town of Gravelotte— eight miles out. 
Here the highway forks, one branch going north of west through 
Conflans, the other through Rezonville, Vionville and Mars la 
Tour to Verdun. This latter road led too to Chalons, and Mac- 
Mahon, and by night of the 14th the Red Prince threatened it 
all along west of Gravelotte. Bazaine determined on a desperate 
effort to beat him off. He and the emperor were at the village 
of Gravelotte. Their army was formed in two lines along the 
Conflans road facing the southwest, and on the 16th Bazaine 
hopefully moved Frossard's corps forward towards the lower 
road ; there he was savagely attacked by the advanced divisions 
of the Second Army ; while on this very day the rest of the 
forces of the Red Prince were all up in line and Steinmetz had 
crossed the Moselle with his hard fighting army, the right wing 
pontooning the river below Metz towards Thionville, the left 
wing crossing above and supporting the army of Friedrich Karl. 
All day the combat raged along the Verdun road. Mars la Tour 
and Vionville were turned into charnel houses ; the losses on 
both sides were even greater than on the 14th, but there was no 
shaking off the hold of those relentless Prussians. Night fell 
on thousands of corpses of the magnificent Imperial Guard of 
France, sacrificed in vain effort to regain the road to Verdun 
and Paris. The emperor had slipped away by the other route 
and pushed on to Rheims. The 17th was spent by Bazaine in 
calling in all his troops for another grand effort to beat back the 
Prussian invaders ; by the Germans in concentrating in front of 
and to the west of Gravelotte ; while Steinmetz with the right 
wing of his army was preparing from the north to swoop down 
upon the French rear; and then on the 18th came the great battle 
of Gravelotte. 

First we want to have a look at the general features of the 
field, and for this purpose let us take our stand on the heights 
south of the Verdun highway — south of the little village of 
Vionville, around which there was such desperate fighting two 
days ago. Here let us face eastward, and now we are looking 
towards Metz, lying somewhere down there in the lovely valley 



810 GRAVELOTTE. 

of the Moselle, but hidden from our sight by a dozen miles 
of billowy upland, of cultivated slopes and ridges, of densely 
wooded ravines. Everywhere, north, south, east and west are 
cosy little hamlets and villages, some nestling down by brook 
sides, some standing boldly on the heights. Stretching nearly 
on a straight line east and west is the broad highway from Metz 
to Verdun, lined and shaded by stately poplars. Criss-crossing 
the landscape are little country roads. Those nearest us run 
down southeastward through that little hamlet of Flavigny to 
Gorze, down on the lowlands of the Moselle. Up those roads 
two days ago came the scores of batteries that the Red Prince 
had thrown across the Moselle. From our point of view there 
is seen a deep fissure or seam across the face of the country a 
mile to the east of us. It is a gorge running north and south. 
On the western brink stands a little town, Rezonville, and here 
the great highway bends northeastward that its descent into the 
gorge may be more gradual. Then up it climbs to the plateau 
on the eastern side, and there is lost in the walls and spires of 
another village. That is Gravelotte. Beyond Gravelotte is 
another black gorge — deeper, darker, steeper than the first; and 
south of Gravelotte and the broad, white ribbon of the highway 
the tilled fields give way to forest. All the huge shoulder of 
the ridge between the two ravines is a mass of green — the people 
call it the "Bois dcs Ognons," or Onion Wood. Across the 
second and deeper gorge it is called the "Bois de Vanx" after a 
little hamlet that lies close down by the Moselle at the eastern 
edge of the forest. To carry the highway down into this second 
gorge east of Gravelotte and up to the plateau beyond was a 
tax to the engineers ; but the road no sooner reaches the summit: 
to the east than it turns sharply southward, passes little Bellevue 
and some big stone quarries, then, more sharply still, turns east- 
ward again, and twisting, turning, doubling on itself, it goes 
winding down past the valley-sheltered roofs of Rozerieulles, 
and is lost to sight under the bluffs of the west bank of the 
Moselle. Mark well that grand plateau east of Gravelotte — east 
of the second gorge, for there is to be the fiercest struggle of 
the day — there is France to make her final stand; and there, 



LOCATION OF THE BATTLE-FIELD. 811 

before she can crown it with her colors, Prussia must bathe 
every foot of its rugged slopes with the blood of her best and 
bravest. 

No village stands upon its crest — Chatel and Rozerieulles are 
down in the ravines on its eastern slope — but there are two little 
farm enclosures north of the highway — northeast of Gravelotte, 
and, oddly enough, they have been named Leipsic and Moscow, 
names pregnant with disaster to the arms of France. 

Beyond this second plateau we can see little to the east until 
the distant hills across the broad valley of the Moselle loom 
mistily up against the eastern horizon. Southeast we can look 
down towards the flats of the Moselle — toward the wood of 
Gorze, where Prussia had to fight her way inch by inch, shoul- 
dering out the French skirmishers by sheer force of numbers — 
down farther still to the broad blue winding stream fringed 
with its peaceful vineyards and pleasant homes — down towards 
Pont-a-Mousson, twenty odd miles away, with its heavy stone 
bridges and massive walls. And all this lovely landscape is 
alive with Prussia's swarming soldiery; dense columns of in- 
fantry ; gay squadrons of Uhlans or hussars ; divisions of heavy 
cavalry; battery after battery of powerful field-guns and long 
trains of ammunition and provision wagons. Metz was to 
have been France's bulwark against invasion ; Prussia scorned 
its frowning guns, and turned it into a prison-pen. 

Looking northeastward, far across this second plateau which 
towers in places one hundred and fifty feet above that of Grave- 
lotte, powerful glasses can make out the lines of fortifications on 
distant heights. Those are the strong permanent works of St. 
Quentin and Plappeville on the bluffs overhanging Metz, and 
not until Bazaine's men are huddled under the shelter of those 
guns will Prussia halt. 

Looking northward we see a gently rolling plateau, fields, 
farms, copses and country villages. The distant streak of white 
is the northwest fork of the Verdun road, coming down from 
Confians and into Gravelotte from the north. San Marcel and 
Villers are those two hamlets north of Vionville ; then farther 
away are Verneville, Amanvillers, and beyond them still, perched 



812 GRAVELOTTE. 

on seamed and rugged heights, the faintly glinting spires of St. 
Privat. Mark well that spot, too, for to win it the Royal Guards of 
Prussia have to make the fiercest fight of their history of heroism. 
There is another little hamlet just south of Metz by the same 
name. Do not confound them. The one now pointed out lies 
a good ten miles west of north from Metz, and its full name is 
St. Privat la Montagne. Somewhere in sight of that spire it is 
that fierce old Steinmetz with the right wing of the First Army 
is waiting the signal to come up from his pontoons and assault 
from the north, for now at this moment, dawn of the 18th of 
August, the main force of Prussia faces north along the Verdun 
road, and is to begin a grand wheel across country to the right, 
pivoting down here on " the woods of onions," and as soon as 
the wheel is completed, enveloping distant St. Privat, Steinmetz 
is to finish the circle to the Moselle, and Bazaine will have the 
whole army of Prussia between him and Paris. Cut off from his 
emperor, cut off from McMahon, cut off from every hope of 
reinforcement, this gifted but unfortunate soldier will be cooped 
up in the lines of Metz. 

And that is the battle-plan of von Moltke the Silent. Now 
let us watch its execution. 

The sun is not yet up. The mists are creeping over the silent 
stream down in the Moselle valley, but the eastern sky is brilliant 
with the hues of summer morning. The air rings with the sig- 
nal notes of trumpet and bugle. All is stirring, soldierly ac- 
tivity. Under the heights on which we stand, dense masses of 
troops are already in motion, and column on column, from 
Rezonville to the east of us, far west beyond Mars la Tour, they 
are pushing northward across the Verdun road. Their front is 
over three miles in extent, and they are moving to seize that 
streak of highway we see some three miles away, the upper 
branch of the Verdun road that runs from Conflans down to the 
junction at Gravelotte. Yesterday the French held it, and it 
was that way that Napoleon and the boy prince escaped. 

This northward moving army is the grand command of the 
Red Prince, Friedrich Karl. The Ninth corps is on the right, 
the Twelfth on the distant left, passing through Mars la Tour, 




COUNT VON MOLTKE. (X. Berthold.) 
"the silent." 



THE FRENCH FALLING BACK. 815 

the gallant Guards corps is in the centre. In reserve, or in the 
second line, are the Tenth and Third corps, the latter having 
borne the brunt of the stubborn fighting of the 16th. East of 
us, between Rezonville and Gravelotte and facing towards Metz, 
are the long lines of the First Army — Steinmetz's people; though 
he himself, with a large portion of his command, is far to the 
north, as we have said. These forces facing Gravelotte are the 
First, Seventh and Eighth corps, and their lines stretch far down 
to the southeast of our position. 

Crowning the opposite heights, stretching from the forest of 
Vaux on their left (our right) up through Gravelotte to Verne- 
ville far to the north of us, and then bending back, sweeping 
northeastward through Amanvillers and St. Privat, are the French. 
For seven days, with most desperate valor and against grievous 
odds, they have been fighting and falling back. Now, so disheart- 
ened are they, that all the gladness and gayety of their race has 
fled. When Napoleon drove away through their lines so short a 
time before, not a cheer would they raise even for young Louis, 
at whose tranquillity under fire they wept but a fortnight since. 
But they will fight, and fight to the death. Frossard and Le- 
bceuf with their corps hold the heights around Gravelotte. Well 
back of the centre is the Imperial Guard, severely reduced after 
its savage fight of the second day before. Farther to the north, 
near Verneville, the heights are held by the Fourth corps of 
Bazaine's army under L'Admirault, while Canrobert, with the 
Sixth, guards Amanvillers and St. Privat. Bazaine must have 
at least 100,000 men in line, and probably 20,000 more in re- 
serve. 

Against him, the forces of United Germany muster fully 220,- 
OOO, with no less than 600 guns. France fights on the defensive 
with every advantage of position, for her guns and mitrailleuses 
sweep all possible approaches, but Germany fights with relent- 
less force and with scientific precision. It must be beyond all 
question the greatest battle of a great war. 

At seven o'clock the combined forces of the Second and 
^ourth Armies have reached the Conflans road, the Guards 
awd the Twelfth corps passing west of Doncourt. Here, back 

50 



816 GRAVELOTTE. 

of Rezonville, on a little knoll, are gathered the headquarters' 
party of the King of Prussia. Von Moltke is still here, and Bis- 
marck, and the Red Prince has not yet galloped northward to 
take immediate charge of the battle in that quarter. Here too 
stands our own gallant general, Sheridan, an eager and vividly 
interested spectator ; and all eyes are turned to the gorge in 
front of Rezonville, along whose brink scores of batteries are 
silently awaiting the order to commence firing. The men of 
the Seventh and Eighth corps are ordered to threaten the posi- 
tion of the French along the Gravelotte ridge, but it is not to be 
a determined attack until those northward moving troops have 
completed that great wheel to the right. It may take most of 
the day. 

Still there is sharp and lively fighting going on down here to 
our right front. The woods are ringing with the crash of mus- 
ketry, while from the Gravelotte ridge the French batteries are 
storming away at the Prussian columns on the lower plateau of 
Rezonville. Then the German gunners get the word, leap in 
and unlimber, and in another moment the earth shakes with the 
steady thunder of their cannonade. Skirmishers too are pushing 
down into the ravine and feeling their way up the opposite 
slope, and wherever their reserves appear, the " growling whirr" 
of the mitrailleuses tells of the efforts of the French to break 
them up with streams of bullets. 

Except for the skirmishers, however, all this is long-range 
fighting. The Prussian fire is slow, deliberate, but fearfully tell- 
ing, despite the awkwardness of up-hill aiming, and the French j 
shells are bursting everywhere over Rezonville and through the 
" Bois des Ognons." And now the king decides it time for the 
Seventh corps to clear that forest, cross the ravines, and assault 
from the south, the forest and slopes of Vaux. It is the strong- 
est part of the French line, and, once carried, renders their hold 
on Gravelotte no longer of value. But however possible it may 
be for this massive and disciplined Prussian corps to sweep the 
Onion Woods of the French light troops, things will assume a 
different aspect when they work their way over to that black 
gorge between the shoulder of the Gravelotte ridge and the high 



BAZAINE BATTERED OUT OF GRAVELOTTE. 817 

bluffs beyond. This second ravine turns eastward in front of 
the Onion Woods, about a mile and a half south of Gravelotte, 
and empties into the Moselle valley at the little town of Ars, and 
the rounded shoulder of those eastern bluffs is seamed with tier 
on tier of rifle-pits, with mitrailleuses in battery, with guns upon 
guns, for Bazaine and Frossard, at first, were of opinion that the 
Red Prince would make an attempt to storm these heights as 
soon as he crossed the Moselle. 

Just at noon, while the Seventh corps is crashing northeast- 
ward through the Onion Woods, and the Eighth corps with a 
score of German batteries holds Frossard at Gravelotte and 
prevents his sending aid to the left of his line, there come frorr 
the north spurring messengers with the glad tidings that tht 
Ninth corps has faced eastward, and is driving the French 
through Verneville. Great clouds of battle-smoke rising over 
the distant trees and drifting towards the Moselle confirm the 
tidings. But for the fierce thunder of our guns we could hear 
the cannonade and the wild cheering up towards Amanvillers. 

And now every battery within hailing distance seems suddenly 
to receive orders to open fire on the French in and around 
Gravelotte, and for half an hour that crest flames with bursting 
shells and the flashes of its own guns. Gallantly as the French- 
men stick to their work, Prussia has here perhaps four guns to 
their one, and the fire is fearful. The German artillerists have 
the exact range, and now pour in that infernal " schnellfeuer " 
(quick fire) for which they are famous, and it is soon evident 
that Frossard's men can stand it no longer. Whole batteries 
are silenced or disabled, and those that can be limbered up and 
run off, are rapidly leaving the plateau. Dragged by hand or 
by the remaining horses, the French guns are being run across 
the second gorge to the stronger heights beyond. Bazaine is 
battered out of Gravelotte. 

Splendidly he handles his retiring men. First the guns are 
hauled back and placed in battery on the great plateau, while the 
long ranks of infantry secure their safe removal. Then, at half- 
past one, the last serviceable gun being across, the battle-lines 
slowly fall back, covered by dense clouds of skirmishers, and just 



818 GRAVELOTTE. 

as the Seventh Prussian corps bursts cheering across the lower 
gorge between the wood of Vaux and the south, the Eighth 
corps " ploys into column" by the heads of brigades, its guns 
and those of the Third corps limber up and go rumbling off across 
the little valley, and at three o'clock the whole Prussian line 
has advanced a mile. The batteries are now ranged in line from 
north to south with burning Gravelotte for the centre, and the 
Eighth corps has joined hands once more with the Seventh. 
The Fpench are swept from their first position, but now they are 
massed on one ten times as strong. 

Once more the tremendous booming of the cannonade bursts 
on the ear. King William well knows that the assault of those 
opposite heights must cost him many thousand men, and he 
must do all he can with his guns to beat down the French 
defenders before sending in his infantry. For hours a steady 
stream of footmen pours through the Bois des Ognons to reinforce 
the Prussian right wing, and until heavily reinforced, no further 
advance can be attempted. The king and his staff have pushed 
forward to a height back of Gravelotte, and are watching this 
coming of General Goben's men. Between four and five, Ba- 
zaine orders all available guns to concentrate their fire on those 
teeming woods. No more troops must be allowed to come to 
Prussia's aid that way. They must be stooped, and they are. 
Such a hell of fire rains on those wood-paths, that the Prussians 
are driven to the shelter of the ravines, and, for the time being, 
France is successful. The losses are appalling. 

But the Germans in winning Gravelotte have complete evi- 
dence of the heroism of the French, and of the superiority of 
their own artillery. The plateau is littered with shattered gun-car- 
riages, and black with the bodies of slaughtered men and horses. 
The Frenchmen have died by hundreds in its defence. Now 
they deluge it with their own missiles, and the winners have to 
take their turn. From four to six o'clock, not a peg does Prus- 
sia gain on that front ; but good news comes from the north. 
The Ninth corps has hurled back l'Admirault, and the Royal 
Guards, after a fierce and bloody struggle, have carried the 
heights of St. Privat ; and now, with the Twelfth corps and the 



THE FRENCH RIGHT ENVELOPED. 819 

Saxon Guards on his extreme left, the Red Prince has enveloped 
the French right, and is crowding it in towards Metz. Can- 
robert, overwhelmed by the combined forces of Friedrich Karl 
and Steinmetz, is falling back in great distress and after severe 
losses, but fighting bravely all the way. 

At six p. m. the German line is a vast semi-circle, completely 
enveloping Metz on the west. The French, little by little, have 
been forced back, and their front, convex towards the west, is 
now really stronger than before. Thus far the hardest and 
fiercest fighting has been at St. Privat, whose slopes are littered 
with the dead of the Prussian Guards ; but now comes the 
slaughter of Gravelotte. Encouraged by the news from his 
left, King William orders the assault of the stronghold of Ba- 
zaine. 

Directly in front of Gravelotte the highway dips down into 
the gorge, then hews its way up the opposite steep through al- 
most vertical walls of rock until it reaches the little farm hamlet 
of St. Hubert at the crest. North and south of this cut, the 
banks are steep and rugged. The farther south you go, the 
deeper and steeper is the gorge. Every foot of the eastern side 
is manned by French artillerists and riflemen. All down tow- 
ards the south the rifle-pits overhang one another. It is a des- 
perate undertaking. It seems unnecessary. It looks as though 
King William, with his superiority in guns, must soon be able 
to shell the French out of their burrows on that broad-backed 
ridge. But night is coming on. Time may be precious. Per- 
haps he wishes to teach the French that Prussians will stop at 
nothing, though old Steinmetz did that most convincingly at 
Spicheren Heights. Who knows ? The order is given, and 
with devoted bravery the infantry lines spring forward and ad- 
vance cheering to the attack. For a few moments, only the 
distant batteries of the Germans can use their guns. The 
Frenchmen train their cannon on the advancing columns and 
lines, and in a few moments the roar of battle out-deafens 
Gettysburg. Six hundred field-guns here are thundering away 
all at once, for as the Prussian lines sweep forward the battery- 
men are able to fire over their heads. Once in the ravine they are 



82Q GRAVELOTTE. 

partially sheltered, but when their helmeted heads begin to pee* 
over the crests beyond, the butchering begins. Even up thcA 
narrow slit of highway, one brave regiment is daring to push its 
advance, and its entire length is swept by Frossard's guns. 
The attempt is madness. Far to the front their officers leap, 
cheering on their men, pointing with their white-gloved left 
hands at the guns above, but grasping with their bared right their 
flashing swords. Down they go, officers and men, under the 
pitiless storm of grape and canister ; down they go before the 
smiting- blast of the mitrailleuse. The faster the lines reach the 
crest and push ahead, the more terrible grows the slaughter. 
Still they push forward into the face of those flaming earthworks, 
leaving, by scores and hundreds, stricken or struggling beings 
in their wake. Most of the fallen lie still ; some struggle to 
their feet and plunge on after their comrades; some stumble 
painfully a few yards, then down they go again — but none come 
back. Forward ! Forward ! is the only order, and yet, to what 
o-ood ? They have yet three — four hundred yards to traverse 
before they can cross bayonets with the sheltered lines of France, 
and by that time, what will be left of them ? What strength 
will they have after that fearful climb? The French deluge 
them with musketry. The whole thing is a sacrifice, and there 
are American soldiers looking on who remember the assault on 
Resaca, or the last charge of Pickett. Old von Moltke can 
stand it no longer, and sends his aides to order the recall, but, 
before the officers can gallop to the ravine, the advance Is 
stemmed, the leading lines have melted away, the second is 
breaking up, the third wavering, and then back they come, and 
after them with wild, exultant cheering, the French brigades of 
Valaze and Jolivet — the counter-charging lines of Frossard. 

North of the highway, too, Bazaine's old Third corps, now 
led by Lebceuf, hurls back the Prussian Eighth, and now, indeed, 
there is need for prompt action. Even the German reserves 
have been involved, and for some few moments a veritable stam- 
pede occurs — an unusual thing among troops so marvellously 
disciplined. 

The old king is looking on the scene of confusion with terri- 



GERMAN DISASTER TURNED TO VICTORY. 823 

ble anxiety. Bismarck is in a state of nervous excitement, and 
wild with eagerness to go in person to the front. Von Moltke, 
old as he is, has leaped into saddle and galloped off to stem the 
rout. Staff-officers spur in every direction to reform and 
straighten out the lines as they come drifting back across the 
ravine. But the assault is turned to repulse. The Prussian 
right is whipped — badly whipped, and if not promptly supported, 
Bazaine will sweep it from the field ; for now, in the wild elan 
and enthusiasm of their charge, tirailleur and Turco, Zouave and 
"Piou-piou " * come surging on in close pursuit — the whole 
French left is advancing in full confidence of victory. 

What stops their triumphant course ? It is barely seven 
o'clock. It will be light enough for fighting two full hours yet. 
They have got the Germans fairly started on the run, and close 
following will keep them at it unless strong reserves are at their 
back; and at six o'clock the plateau of Rezonville, behind them, 
was bare of troops. Why do their bugles sound the halt? Why 
are the fire-flashing lines brought to a stand with the setting sun 
glaring in their faces and burnishing their heated arms? 

Look behind Rezonville, and there is the answer. 

Long lines of dusty, travel-worn infantry ; nimbly handled 
batteries of field-artillery ; whole regiments of dragoons, are 
issuing from the wood-roads south of Vionville, and, as though 
snuffing the battle from afar, deploying right and left as they 
come, they sweep out upon the open plain, covered as it is with 
the dead and dying of the morning's battle. 

It is the Second corps of Friedrich Karl's army, that has been 
marching all the livelong day to reach the field, and now comes 
upon the scene at sunset, to turn, like Sheridan at Cedar Creek, 
a dire disaster into matchless victory. 

Von Moltke himself spurs to meet and welcome them, to 
urge them forward into the fray, and their breathless comrades 
of the Seventh and Eighth corps, taking heart once more at 
sight of their coming, face again towards the blazing heights 
across the gorge, and determine on another dash. No time is 
lost. Von Moltke is all alive with vehement determination 

*A soldier-name for the French infantryman of the line regiments. 



824 GRAVELOTTE. 

now, and once more orders the assault. With one grand im- 
pulse the combined corps leap forward in renewed attack. The 
French, far in front of their works, are taken at disadvantage. 
They recoil — face to the foe — before superior numbers, and 
vhen at last they regain their rifle-pits and batteries, the cheering 
Prussians are tumbling in among them. The crest is crowned 
by the light of the burning villages, for the sun has gone down 
upon the scene of carnage, and darkness settles over the hard- 
fought field. Nine o'clock has come, and despite fearful pun- 
ishment, despite losses that have left some regiments almost 
without an officer and reduced to one-tenth their morning 
strength, the Germans have carried the heights in their front, 
and along the entire semi-circle the Army of France has suffered 
defeat. 

Von Zastrow with the Seventh corps and the supporting col- 
umns of General Gobcn hold the woods of Vaux from the crest 
at "Point du Jour" — or Bellevue — up the road beyond St. 
Hubert's, down southward through the great quarry, and so on 
around eastward to the village of Vaux. On the great plateau 
around St. Hubert's and northward to the Moscow farm, the 
bulk of the shattered Eighth corps is resting on its arms after 
its tremendous double effort. In storming the position of St. 
Hubert's six solid regiments of infantry, any one of them as 
large as the effective fighting strength of one of our brigades 
during the civil war, were so cruelly cut up, that mere shreds of 
their organization remain. Fortunate it was for Germany that 
those Pomeranians of the Second corps arrived when they did. 
Fortunate for the Eighth and Ninth corps that they had such 
stout backers as old Albensleben with the hard fighters of the 
Third. 

All along the great crest are smouldering the ruins of farm- 
cottages, hamlets and homes. All along through the thronged 
villages the beaten Frenchmen are drawing back their lines for 
refuge under the guns of St. Quentin and Plappeville. Far to 
the north the Red Prince follows up the retiring columns, and 
posts his pickets in plain sight of the watch-fires under the forts. 
Far to the south the men of von der Goltz's brigade are shout- 



FRIGHTFUL LOSSES ON BOTH SIDES. 825 

ing congratulation from the heights of Jussy and Vaux to their 
cavalry comrades across the Moselle. 

But in the darkness and distance back of Gravelotte, all is still 
anxiety. Here on a rude railing, stretched across the body of a 
French horse, the King of Prussia sits in silent torment. He 
knows that thousands of his men have fallen in the desperate 
fighting of the day ; he cannot yet tell to what result. The 
thunder of the guns has died away; only scattering volleys now 
are heard. Near by, a large factory is in flames, and the king 
and his staff are grouped around a garden wall on the eastern 
skirts of Rezonville. Near the king are his tried and trusted 
ministers, Bismarck and von Roon. Von Moltke is still absent 
at the front, and all are waiting eagerly for his report. Presently, 
guided by the shouts of the escort and guards, two horsemen 
urge their panting steeds up the slope, and von Moltke springs 
from the saddle and salutes his soldier-monarch : " Please your 
majesty, we have conquered ; we have driven the enemy out of all 
his positions ; " and then, at last, anxiety gives way to triumphant 
joy. Gravelotte is won. Bazaine penned up in Metz. The 
greatest of her regular and disciplined armies is lost to France. 

In the three days' battling around Metz, in those bloody en- 
gagements of the 14th, 1 6th and 18th of August, Bazaine has 
sustained losses aggregating between 12,000 and 15,000 killed, 
and 50,000 wounded and prisoners. Germany of course has 
lost few prisoners, but, in one tremendous effort, in that supreme 
struggle of the 18th of August, in that bloody but finally suc- 
cessful battle to cut off the great French army from the rest of 
France, Prussia and her confederate sisters lose no less than 
25,000 in killed and wounded, against the 19,000 lost to France 
that day. 

Gravelotte was the greatest battle of the war, but it by no 
means ended it. The Emperor Napoleon, with his boy prince, 
reached MacMahon at Chalons on the 17th. They had great 
difficulty and narrow escapes, for the Prussians hounded them 
along their way ; but once at Chalons with its immense camp, 
the emperor seems to have resolved on measures to rescue Ba- 
zaine. The empress at Paris, now regent of France, and her 



826 GRAVELOTTE. 

ministers in council decided that this step must be taken. There 
were by this time 600,000 German troops in France. Both the 
emperor and MacMahon are said to have believed it impossible 
to cut out Bazaine against such a force, and their going back to 
his aid left the road to Paris open to the crown prince and the 
Third army, which was marching steadily westward from Nancy 
to Chalons. Practicable or not, the move was demanded by the 
government at Paris, who thought the vast army of " Gardes 
Mobiles," now being raised and equipped by Trochu, could fight 
back any force of Prussians that might threaten the walls. 

On August 2 1st MacMahon broke camp and marched north- 
ward towards Rheims ; his idea being to make forced marches 
up through the Argonne hills — cross the Meuse west of Mont- 
medy and swoop down, by way of Thionville, on the Prussians 
encircling Metz. In other words, he meant to make a wide swing 
through the country, so as to avoid direct conflict with the Ger- 
mans pressing westward after him, and save his strength for the 
attempt to release Bazaine. Could he once more unite with him 
there was hope for France. 

Meantime, leaving the Red Prince to completely surround and 
hold Bazaine in Metz, the king with his faithful generals, the 
Fourth corps, the Saxons and the Guards, pushed on after the 
crown prince. On the 24th the advance of the Germans found 
Chalons deserted, and flashed back word to the king, then at 
Bar-le-Duc, that MacMahon had gone northward with his whole 
army. 

Von Moltke was engaged that night in his customary game of 
whist. All about him was disciplined silence and order. In an 
adjoining room his maps were spread open upon the tables ; 
aides-de-camp and staff-officers were noiselessly at work, while 
the great head of all, having so perfected his system that each 
man had his allotted task for so many hours of the twenty-four, 
was now enjoying his one relaxation with the three officers who 
were that night designated to make up the game. The entry of 
an aide-de-camp indicated important despatches. Von Moltke 
laid down his cards, read the paper through without a word, 
took it with him into the adjoining room, glanced at his maps, 




MAESHAL MACMAHON, DUKE OF MAGENTA, 



MACMAHON AT SEDAN. 829 

wrote a brief note to the king, and returned to his game as 
though nothing had happened. 

And yet, in that matter-of-fact method, he had issued the orders 
changing the whole plan of campaign. Early the next morning 
the German armies were striking northward, and that with the 
king was still keeping vigilantly between MacMahon and Metz. 
On the 29th the French were fighting with the Saxons for a 
chance to cross the Meuse, and getting the worst of it. On the 
30th a savage battle took place, the very thing MacMahon 
wished to avoid, and numbers of guns and prisoners were lost to 
the French ; but on the 31st the Germans, still between him and 
Metz, were hammering him back down the Meuse and into the 
fortified city of Sedan. MacMahon had still with him over 100,- 
OOO men and 400 guns, and at and around Sedan he was brought 
to bay. All day of the 31st of August he found the German 
armies more closely enfolding him. Morning of September 1st 
found his army posted in the low-lying valley east of the Meuse, 
and surrounding the city of Sedan. General de Wimpffen, just 
arrived from Algeria, was commanding the Fifth corps in and 
close under the eastern fortifications. Lebrun with the Twelfth 
corps held the lines from the village of Bazeilles, south of Sedan, 
to a point due east of the city, where Ducrot with the First 
corps took up and prolonged the front to Givonne, a village 
northeast of Sedan. Then the line bent back at a right angle 
and stretched across to the Meuse to the west. This front was 
held by Felix Douay with the Seventh corps (his brother, Abel 
Douay, was killed at Weissenburg), and passing through the vil- 
lage of Floing, was supported on the left by heavy divisions of 
cavalry. 

At seven a. m. the Prussian army was confronting the French, 
east, west, and south of Sedan — the First Bavarian corps and 
the Fourth and Twelfth corps on the east ; the Fifth and 
Eleventh corps, with heavy masses of cavalry, marching up througl 
Donchery, on a deep bend of the Meuse, to the west, and aiming 
to sweep around the French to the north from the west, while 
the Guards of Prussia and Saxony swung round to meet them 
and complete the circle from the east. South of the city and 



830 GRAVELOTTE. 

across the Meuse, the commanding heights were held by the 
Second Bavarian corps and the Wurtembergers. Every height 
was crowded with guns ; and from early dawn a pitiless storm 
of shot and shell rained on the unfortunate Frenchmen. Little 
by little, despite the fiercest and bravest fighting, they were 
hemmed in and driven back ; village after village was wrested 
from them by the Germans ; at two p. m. the circle was completed. 
Two hundred and fifty thousand Germans surrounded less than 
half that many Frenchmen. MacMahon, severely wounded, 
turned over the command to Wimpffen; and Napoleon III., de- 
spairing and broken-hearted, sent General Reille to the Prussian 
king. 

" Not having been able to die at the head of my troops," wrote 
the sensational emperor (though it is to this day not apparent 
that he sought death " at the head of his troops " or any other 
point), " I lay down my sword to your majesty." Napoleon had 
bowed the knee to Prussia. Jena was avenged. 

The next day was marked by the surrender of the great army 
in and around Sedan. There were turned over to Prussia 
100,000 men and 400 guns, seventy mitrailleuses and 10,000 
horses ; and the fallen emperor was conducted a prisoner to 
the castle of Wilhelmshohe. In a brief campaign of thirty days, 
therefore, the genius of von Moltke and the marvellous disci- 
pline and system of Prussian arms, had enabled her king to cut 
in twain, then to rout and, in detail, to ruin the great army as- 
sembled on the frontier for the avowed invasion of the Father- 
land. The regular army of France was gone. 

Now there was nothing to prevent the triumphant march of 
Prussia on Paris. On September 27th General Uhrich surren- 
dered Strasburg with all its garrison, guns and stores ; and on 
October 29th Bazaine, starved out, he claimed, capitulated with 
his great command at Metz. Afterwards, France tried and con- 
victed him on charges of treason, as his provisions were not ex- 
hausted by any means ; but it is only fair to say that he had 
made one or two fierce, but ineffectual, efforts to fight his way 
out, and succumbed only to the inevitable. 

Strasburg and Metz cost France nearly 200,000 more men, 



FRANCE'S EXTREME HUMILIATION. 831 

nearly 2,500 guns, sixty-six mitrailleuses, and over 300,000 
Chassepots. Bereft of her regular army, France drove out the 
empress and her adherents, and fought under republican colors 
with devoted heroism to the final close of the war. Paris was 
taken by siege and starvation, after a long and courageous de- 
fence, and by February, 1871, the people gave up the fight. To 
her infinite chagrin, France struck her colors to the hated Prussians. 
As the results of this great war, the French forfeited to Ger- 
many 6,200 square miles of territory in the provinces of Alsace 
and Lorraine, the fortresses of Metz and Strasburg, and were 
condemned to pay a war indemnity of 5,000,000,000 francs within 
three years (and astonished Prussia by doing it with comparative 
ease). She lost some 10,000 cannon and 500,000 prisoners, be- 
sides her terrible list of killed and wounded. As further results, 
France became a great and growing and prosperous republic, 
Germany an empire, with her grand old Prussian king as Kaiser. 



PLEVNA. 




1877. 

UROPE settled down into a period of rest after 
the conflict between France and Germany, but 
it was not long before the attention of all Chris- 
tian nations was drawn to the borders of the 
infidel monarchy — Turkey. For years, the peo- 
ple of one of the Danube provinces — Bulgaria — 
had been subjected by the Mussulman Turks 
to all manner of indignities growing out of the 
differences in their religious faith, if indeed the so-called " Faith- 
ful" of the Mohammedan sect are entitled to the term " religious 
faith" as applied to their peculiar belief. These indignities, 
despite the protests of neighboring powers, grew worse, as though 
goaded on by interference, and ere long became outrages of the 
most flagrant kind. Murder, rapine, and brutality of every de- 
scription were. dealt out to the wretched people under the eye of 
the officials and the soldiery of Turkey. Even America sent 
her representative to inquire into the facts, and the country has 
not yet forgotten the fearful picture drawn by Mr. Eugene Schuy- 
ler — now our minister at the court of Greece. It was in no de- 
gree exaggerated ; and all Christendom seemed to realize that 
the policy of non-interference could no longer be extended to 
Turkey. In the spring of 1877, Russia called her to account, 
and the followers of the Greek Church took up arms against the 
followers of the Prophet. 

Outside of any consideration of revenge for Turkey's success 
in the war of 1854— '55, it was more natural that Russia should 
become the champion of the oppressed people of the Danube val- 
ley than that the duty should fall to the nations to the west, though 
832 




GRAND DUKE NICHOLAS OP RUSSIA. 



BULGARIA AND WALLACHIA. 835 

it was at one time thought that Austria, too, would have taken a 
hand. The great river sweeps on in a general eastward course 
after bursting through the Iron Gates, and, leaving Austria behind, 
flows toward the Black Sea. When within forty miles of the 
coast it turns suddenly to the north near the city of Tcherna- 
voda, runs squarely up to Galatz near the Russian border, and 
then, making another rectangular turn, this time to the east, it 
flows through its broad delta into the Black Sea. 

Around this delta and all along the left bank live a people far 
more Russian in their tastes, sympathies, habits, and religious 
belief than Turkish. On the right bank live the Bulgarians, a 
people but faintly removed in their views from the Wallachians. 
Between them and Turkey proper, to the south, upheaved the 
great wall of the Balkan Mountains ; and this natural barrier 
between the countries was but typical of the broad line of demar- 
cation between them as people. Bulgaria was Turkey's by right 
of conquest, and was held only by force of arms. South of the Bal- 
kans, down to the shores of the ^Egean, all is distinctively Turk- 
ish, and the portion of Turkish domain west of the Bosphorus, 
the Dardanelles and the Sea of Marmora is sometimes known as 
Turkey in Europe. These are the straits and the inland sea that 
form the great channel to the Black Sea farther north. East of 
them lies Turkey in Asia, stretching far over through Armenia 
and Koordistan until it is bordered on the northeast by the Cau- 
casus of Russia, and on the east by Persia. Close to the Rus- 
sian border lies the city of Kars, where, as well as at Erzeroum 
to the west of it, the Muscovite and Mussulman had many a 
fierce grapple. 

It is with the campaign in the Danube valley that we have 
most to do however, and thither let us turn our eyes. The events 
of that short and sharp encounter are so fresh in the minds of 
many readers that there can be little of novelty in the descrip- 
tion to be given here. All the great military nations of the 
world sent representatives to the scene, and every battle, siege, 
and skirmish was vividly described by scores of masterly writers; 
but while the columns of the London journals teemed with 
graphic accounts from such famed war correspondents as Archi- 



836 PLEVNA. 

bald Forbes and Messrs. MacGahan, Millet, and Grant, it has been 
reserved for a gallant young officer of our own army to furnish a 
history of this memorable war that has been translated and read 
all over the globe, and is pronounced by all authorities a most 
admirable and comprehensive work. To those of our readers 
who wish to fully study the " Russian Campaigns in Turkey, 
1 877-1 878," the large volume by that title, written by Lieutenant 
Francis V. Greene, of the Corps of Engineers, U. S. Army, is es- 
pecially commended, and to that work mainly is the writer of 
these sketches indebted for the details recounted in this chapter. 

The valley of the Danube is bounded on the north by the 
Carpathian Mountains, which sweep around and take a south- 
ward trend, are cut through by the river at the Iron Gates and 
are lost in the rugged uplands of Servia. South of the river and 
parallel to its general eastward course is the Balkan range, and 
from these two great ribs or ridges — from range to range — there 
is a general distance of 200 miles. Northeast of the Carpathians 
lie the rolling, treeless " steppes" of Russia. South of the Car- 
pathians their foothills roll away down into the valley some fifty 
miles, and from that line to the river itself all is one flat, open 
level — well watered but bare of trees. South of the Danube, 
however, the Balkans send their slopes down to end in abrupt 
bluffs at the water's edge, and these bluffs are often from 500 to 
1 ,000 feet in height. The Bulgarian shores are picturesque, roll- 
ing, well wooded, and cut up by rich and fertile valleys. Where 
the Danube turns abruptly northward at Tchernavoda it leaves 
to the east a rectangular tract of barren country known as the 
Dobrudja, and across the narrow neck of the Dobrudja are the 
remains of the old Roman wall built by Trajan to keep out bar- 
baric invaders from the north. 

Into this valley from the north there come two lines of rail- 
way which unite at the important city of Galatz, where the river 
makes its last eastward turn before rolling into the sea, and from 
Galatz a single line stretches southwest to Bucharest, then south 
to the Danube, which it crosses to Rustchuk, and then winds off 
eastward again to Turkey's great naval station and port on the 
Black Sea — Varna. The railway from Russia to Galatz and 



RUSSIA DECLARES WAR. 837 

thence to Bucharest was the line along which Russia had to send 
her supplies, for the Black Sea swarmed with the powerful arma- 
ment of the Turkish navy. 

On April 24th, 1877, the Tsar of Russia declared war against 
Turkey. He stated that for two years he and all the Christian 
powers of Europe had striven in vain to induce the Porte (as the 
government at Constantinople is termed) " to introduce those 
reforms to which it was solemnly bound by previous engage- 
ments, and by which alone the Christians in Turkey could be 
protected from local exaction and extortion ; that these negotia- 
tions had all failed through the obstinacy of the Porte ; and 
now, all peaceful methods being exhausted, the moment had 
arrived for him to act independently and impose his will upon 
the Turks by force ; and therefore the order had been given to 
his army to cross the Turkish frontier." 

At this moment Turkey had about 250,000 troops in readiness 
for war, and of these, 165,000 were close at hand and available 
for duty along the Danube. Against these Russia thought 
herself able to conduct an offensive campaign with only 200,000 
men — and in this she was mistaken. Instead of profiting by 
the example of Prussia and sending instantly an overwhelming 
force to the frontier, she doled out her resources by driblets, and 
suffered losses and delays that better counsels and generalship 
would have averted. By August, the Turks had 225,000 fight- 
ing men along the European theatre of war, and Russia had to 
call for her reserves. 

The "Army of the South," Russia's first invading force, was 
placed under the command of the Grand Duke Nicholas. It 
consisted of seven army corps, and two brigades of rifles. Each 
Russian army corps consisted of two divisions (24 battalions) of 
infantry, two brigades (96 guns) of mounted artillery, and one 
division (18 squadrons) of cavalry, with two horse-batteries (12 
guns). The invading army consisted, therefore, of about 180 
battalions, 200 squadrons and 800 guns ; and by the time this 
force could reach the Danube, the ordinary casualties of service 
would be more than apt to reduce it to 180,000 effectives. 

But Russian infantry is admirable. No firmer, steadier, more 






838 PLEVNA. 

reliable foot-troops can be found. They are thoroughly drilled 
and disciplined, are docile and obedient, and devoted to their 
tsar. They are comfortably and sensibly uniformed, are not 
heavily burdened with useless camp-equipage, and when in line 
or in mass, their courage and stability are proverbial. It is as 
skirmishers and light troops that the Russian infantry lack 
intelligence. The Russian foot-soldier seems to have no indi- 
viduality, and is helpless without the guiding hand of his officer. 

Not of a much brighter class is the Russian cavalry or artil- 
leryman. All are faithful and subservient, but the element of 
" dash," so conspicuous in our own and the Franco-Prussian 
war, seems to have had little more place in the rank and file of 
Russia than it had at Inkerman and Balaclava. 

While in point of service-dress and equipment the Russian 
regulars were fully up to the needs of the campaign, their weap- 
ons were clumsy and inadequate. The infantry arm at the out- 
break of the war was an altered musket — an old muzzle-loading 
rifle converted to a breech-loader by the system of an Austrian 
armorer named Krenk. The mechanism consisted of a block 
turning on an axis parallel to that of the bore, and locked by 
heavy shoulders of metal on the breech piece ; but the gun was 
of antiquated calibre (60), larger than the Springfield rifles we 
used in 1862, and, with its bayonet, the gun weighed 10^ 
pounds, while forty rounds of cartridges weighed 5^ pounds. 
Its extreme range was only about 1,200 paces, a pitiful arm 
indeed as compared with the rifles of other nations. Yet this 
was the musket with which the Russian footman had to fight 
his way to the walls of Constantinople. 

In field-artillery, too, Russia was far behind other European 
powers. Her guns were of bronze, too soft a metal for sharp 
rifling, and not until the war was over did she obtain from the 
great Krupp factory the steel breech-loaders with which her 
batteries are now supplied. The guns of the mounted batteries 
(those which accompanied the infantry) were half of them nine- 
pounders — half four-pounders. Three batteries of each calibre to 
a brigade, eight guns to a battery. The horse-batteries were all 
four-pounders, six guns to each. All the field-guns were breech- 



THE COSSACKS AS LIGHT CAVALRY. 839 

loaders, and the extreme range of the largest was 5,000 yards, 
the smallest 3,800 yards. 

In cavalry, the Russian army was well represented. Each 
division of the line consisted of four regiments, one each of 
dragoons, lancers, hussars and Cossacks. The guard divisions 
had also fine regiments of cuirassiers. The dragoons were 
armed with sabre, musket and bayonet ; the lancers and hussars 
with sabre, lance and revolver in the front rank; sabre, musket 
and revolver in the rear rank. The Cossacks carried the lance, 
the " schaska " (a sharp, single-edged, curved sword) and the 
carbine. The American Smith and Wesson revolver was uni- 
versal. 

These Cossacks deserve a word of special mention. As light 
cavalry they have few superiors except among the Sioux and 
Cheyenne Indians of our northern plains, who are unequalled 
anywhere. They form a recognized corps of the regular army, 
and yet are more like irregulars in their own way of fighting and 
management. No pay is given them. They perform military ser- 
vice in lieu of paying taxes — four years on the active list and away 
from home eight years with the reserves in their own province. 
The Don Cossacks are the most numerous and the best trained, 
a full regiment of them being attached to each division of regu- 
lar cavalry. The government supplies their arms and ammuni- 
tion, but the Cossacks themselves provide their horses, clothing 
and equipments. For rations and forage a certain sum is paid 
them from which they make all necessary purchases ; but their 
wants are few, and their shaggy, hardy little horses are as om- 
nivorous and easily satisfied as Indian ponies, which they re- 
semble in many characteristics. Lieutenant Greene says of the 
Cossacks that " they are fine horsemen, expert swimmers, good 
shots and skillful boatmen," and that those of the Caucasus are 
extremely bold riders, training " their horses to lie down and 
keep quiet while they fire over them, and then to get up quickly 
and go off at rapid gallop." They do not need to be held or 
tied, but their riders can at any time spring off and leave them 
to look out for themselves while the Cossacks are drilling or 
fighting on foot, and when wanted, the horses will be found just 



840 PLEVNA. 

about where they were left All this is precisely the system of 
our plains Indians, and no regular cavalry in the world can do 
anything like it. 

A Cossack regiment is equipped and uniformed in a semi-bar- 
baric style that is picturesque and yet serviceable. The bridle is 
as simple as the Mexican affair — a leather head-stall without 
buckles, but provided with only a snaffle bit. The saddle, like 
that of the Sioux Indians, is a tree of light wood, with high and 
abrupt pommel and cantle, very short in the seat ; but unlike our 
Indians, or any civilized horsemen, the Cossacks strap a cushion 
on their saddles and sit some six or eight inches higher than the 
horse's back, so that their feet never show below his body. The 
uniform is a dark blue jacket, plain and snug, without ornaments 
of any kind, and the cap is a cylindrical tower of black leather, 
nine inches high. The linesman or regular is a helpless creature 
when left to shift for himself. He expects every detail to be ar- 
ranged for him, and is all afloat when rations, forage or shelter 
are not forthcoming; but the tough little Cossack is never so 
well off as when turned loose and told to forage for himself. He 
and his horse will thrive, but the neighborhood may suffer. 

In time of war, Russia is able to call into the field over 
150,000 Cossacks, most of whom are cavalry, though there are 
thirty-nine Cossack field-batteries, and seventeen battalions of 
infantry. The Don Cossacks furnish more than one-third of the 
entire number, and the other tribes, those of the Caucasus, the 
Volga, the Ural, etc., the remainder. Serving so much with the 
troops of the line, the Don Cossacks lose something of the "plains 
craft," which is so marked a characteristic of their wilder breth- 
ren ; but take them all-in-all, these irregular-regulars are a most 
valuable element in the Russian army, and the tsar is very careful 
to keep them in as efficient a state as possible. They are the 
eyes and ears of his field-force, as the Uhlans are of Prussia's, and 
when a foe is beaten and in retreat, the Cossack becomes a fearful 
enemy. The Grand Army of France, which began the retreat 
with Napoleon from ruined Moscow, was goaded to death by 
their swarming lances, and only a shadow of it got back across 
the Vistula. 



TURKEY'S PREPARATIONS FOR WAR. 841 

Such being, in brief, a summary of the Russian military field- 
force, the Turkish army is next to be considered. 

Thanks to a vast recruiting field in Asia, the Porte was able to 
keep its ranks well filled throughout the war ; but in discipline, 
equipment and instruction, the Turkish army was far inferior to 
the Russian. They had but half as many guns, and their cav- 
alry was the worst in Europe, and very small in number. It was 
in point of armament that Turkey stood head and shoulders 
above her antagonist. Her field-guns were Krupp's best make, 
steel breech-loaders; and her infantry was supplied through- 
out with the finest long-range breech-loading rifle ever placed in 
the hands of troops — the celebrated Peabody-Martini, calibre .45, 
made by the Providence Tool Company, in our own Rhode 
Island. When the war broke out 300,000 of these guns were 
on hand, and 200,000 more were sent them. 

Being short of cavalry, the Turks thought to match the Cos- 
sacks by enlisting the services of some Bulgarian and Roumelian 
guerillas, called Bashi-bozouks. Being pushed to the wall, Tur- 
key had to make the most of her untrained subjects, and these 
vagabond "bushwhackers" were given arms and ammunition. 
It was an experiment not unlike that resorted to by our own 
government, when in 1861 it enlisted from the scum of the New 
York streets the regiment known as " Billy Wilson's Zouaves " — 
an incalculable boon to the locality from which it was drafted, 
but of no earthly use to the nation. A wise discretion prompted 
the assignment of Colonel Billy's regiment to the lonely strand 
of Santa Rosa Island, where they could only steal from one 
another, and so served a term in a penal colony all their own ; 
but these Bashi-bozouks followed the movements of the Turkish 
army, and robbed and pillaged right and left. They would have 
been a terror to defenceless Russian hamlets, but they never got 
across the border, and so proved a pestilence to their own people. 
In point of organization, the army of Turkey differed but 
slightly from those of the military nations of Europe. Infantry 
was handled in battalions and brigades ; cavalry in squadrons 
and regiments, and artillery in field-batteries, very much as were 
those arms of service in Russia ; but where all was steady dis- 



842 I'LEVNA. 

cipline and efficiency among the troops of the tsar, there was 
laxity and grave irregularity among the soldiers of the Porte. 

One thing can be said of the Turk. He has a certain disregard 
of danger, is a " fatalist" to the extent of believing that the mat- 
ter of life and death is beyond control of any precaution on his 
part, and when the appointed time comes, be it soon or late, he 
must die. It gives him a certain stoical indifference to personal 
peril which is a valuable trait in the soldier, and yet is no kin 
to the high order of courage we see in the intelligent, the Chris- 
tian man ; that courage which, while it leaves its bearer fully sen- 
sible of every risk to life and limb, yet guides him in serene and 
steadfast purpose along the path of duty — the bravery of true 
manhood. Wonderful fortitude and pluck were displayed on 
many occasions by the Turkish armies during the war. Severe 
hardships were uncomplainingly endured, but when crushing 
defeat came upon them they seemed to lose all cohesion, and 
went to pieces with stunning rapidity. 

The Russian plan of campaign was a problem from the start. 
The treaty of Paris, in 1856, after the fall of Sebastopol, robbed 
the tsar of his fleet in the Black Sea, and left Turkey in supreme 
naval control of that inland ocean. With a strong fleet, Russia 
could have sent her supplies and armies down along the coast, 
past the mouths of the Danube, past the Dobrudja, past the 
Balkans, and so carry the war into the heart of Turkey. But 
Russia's ships were gone, and hers had to be a land attack. 
She must march her armies through the principalities along the 
border, through possibly hostile populations, across a great river, 
and, like Sherman at Atlanta, depend for life upon that slender 
thread of 300 miles of railway stretching far behind him. But 
Sherman never hesitated ; neither did the grand duke. Sherman 
had to fight his way foot by foot, for Johnston disputed every 
gap, ridge or rail-fence. The grand duke with the army of the 
south had an actual " walk-over," for Turkey never woke up until 
the Russian bugles were blowing the reveille along the Danube. 

The Army of the South, near the end of April, was posted along 
the frontier about fifty miles north of Galatz, with headquarters 
at Kishineff. As it crossed into Turkey it consisted of the Eighth, 



RUSSIA'S DISADVANTAGES. 843 

Ninth, Eleventh, and Twelfth corps d'armee, commanded respect^ 
ively by Lieutenant-Generals Radetsky, Baron Kriidener, Prince 
Shakofskoi, and Vannofsky. There were two rifle divisions under 
major-generals, and there was finally a great cavalry command 
of Cossacks led by Lieutenant-General Skobeleff Subsequently, 
the Fourteenth, Fourth, and Thirteenth corps, under Zimmerman, 
Zotof, and Prince Korsakoff, respectively, were ordered to join the 
Army of the South, bringing it up to 182 battalions, 204 squad- 
rons, and 808 field-guns — in all some 200,000 combatants. On 
the morning of April 24th the advance deliberately crossed the 
line, and on the 24th of May the Russian army was aligned along 
the north bank of the Danube, the centre at Bucharest, the front 
picketed from Nicopolis to Silistria. Turkey had hardly opposed 
a gun to the advance. 

Arriving at the Danube, Russia was brought to a halt. The 
spring had been very wet; the river was fifteen feet higher than 
usual ; the gauge of the Roumanian railway was smaller than 
that of the Russian roads (" five-footers"), and much of the roll- 
ing stock had been gotten out of the way, so that unexpected 
delays occurred in bringing forward the pontoon and siege trains 
and the needed supplies of rations, forage, and ammunition. 

But while the army was brought to a stand, some splendid 
work was done by officers of the Russian navy. The Turks 
had a powerful fleet of iron-clads under Hobart Pasha, an ex- 
officer of the English navy, and these thunderers were vastly in 
the way at the mouth of the Danube. Russia had no ships or 
iron-clads there, but she sent down some spirited young lieuten- 
ants from the Baltic, and one of these daring fellows (bethinking 
himself probably of our Cushing and the "Albemarle," whose 
story is so well told in Dr. Shippen's Naval Battles) took 
some little steam-launches and torpedo boats one dark, rainy 
night and blew up the Turkish ship-of-war " Seife " in the Matchin 
channel of the Danube, below Braila, and in a short time after 
the declaration of war, Russian torpedoes were so thick along the 
delta channels and the lower river that, in very dread of them, the 
Turkish iron-clads backed out and were no more seen. Up the 
river around Rustchuk and Nicopolis the Turks had smaller 



844 PLEVNA. 

iron-clads, and the Russian officers so tormented them with torpe^ 
does that from first to last the Mussulman navy was of no account 
whatever. On the Danube the fleet was a perfect failure, and was 
speedily driven to the shelter of the shore guns and kept there. 

On June 22d, General Zimmerman ferried two regiments across 
the Danube at Galatz and drove the Turkish outposts from the 
heights on the Dobrudja shore. Soon afterwards he crossed his 
whole force at Braila and moved southward, whereupon the 
Turks gave up the Dobrudja without further struggle and fell 
back behind Trajan's wall. 

On June 24th the Russian siege batteries on the north bank 
began hammering at the walls of Rustchuk, and on the night of 
the 26th the advance of the Eighth corps slipped across the Dan- 
ube in boats and effected a lodgment below Sistova. The fol- 
lowing afternoon the town itself fell into the hands of the invaders 
after brief resistance, and by the first days of July the pontoon 
bridges were thrown across, the Army of the South was on Bul- 
garian soil, and Turkey had done little or nothing to prevent it. 
" In ten weeks from the opening of hostilities," says Greene, 
" the Russians had established themselves on the southern bank 
of the Danube, and with a loss which, in comparison to the im- 
portance of the success, was totally insignificant." The Turks 
tried to make believe it was all part and parcel of a plan to lure 
the Russians across the Danube and there surround and crush 
them. Lure them across they certainly did, whether designedly 
or not. Crush them they did not, nor did they come anywhere 
near it. Now, however, began their defensive campaign. 

The entire Army of the South, except detachments left to 
guard the towns and railway to their rear, crossed the Danube 
by the pontoons near Sistova, all but the Fourth corps being over 
by July 15th. In accordance with the plan, General Gourko with 
the advance, and followed by the Eighth corps, was to push ahead 
for the Balkans by way of the main high-road through Tirnova. 
Two rivers come down into the Danube from the mountains to 
the south — the Yantra east of Sistova, the Vid to the west and 
beyond Nicopolis, The Yantra drains a large tract of country 
around Tirnova, which lies on one of the nine branches into 



RAPIDITY OF THE RUSSIAN MOVEMENT. 845 

<vhich it splits up on nearing the range, but as it approaches the 
Danube it falls away to the eastward a dozen miles or so from 
the Sistova highway, and passes the town of Biela on the grear 
cross-road between Tirnova and Rustchuk. This same high-road, 
continuing westward over the rolling foothills of the Balkans, 
bridges the little river Osma, and some twenty-five miles beyond 
that, dips down into the valley of the Vid, and crosses the east 
fork of that stream at the town of Plevna. While the Russian 
centre was to follow the high-road to the Balkan passes, the 
Twelfth and Thirteenth corps were thrown out into the Yantra 
valley to cover the left flank ; the Ninth corps was designated 
to assault Nicopolis and go up the valley of the Vid on the right 
flank, while the Fourth and Eleventh corps were for the time 
being to be held in reserve. 

The cavalry seized Biela on the 5th of July, and Gourko won 
Tirnova on the 7th. Then the tsar arrived and joined the army 
at Biela ; the left wing pushed steadily forward up the Yantra ; 
Gourko burst through the Balkans; Krudener captured Nico- 
polis— all within a brief fortnight— and everything, right, centre, 
and left, was going swimmingly for Russia and all amiss for Tur- 
key, when suddenly Krudener, plunging up the Vid valley, struck 
a rock at the forks and came to a dead stop at Plevna. On the 
20th of July the Russian right was whipped, and then everybody 
elsewhere in the Army of the South had to pull up short in his 
triumphant career and turn back to help Krudener out of trouble. 
I But, meantime, there had been consternation at Constanti- 
nople. The political effect of the passage of the Danube and 
Gourko's sudden leap for the passes through the Balkans was 
startling. Panic reigned at Adrianople and spread to the capital 
on the Bosphorus. The sultan was well-nigh ready to flee to 
Asia Minor, and leave the nation to take care of itself. He dis- 
graced and banished the general-in-chief, Abdul Kerim Pasha, 
and the minister of war. Then Mehemet Ali was made com- 
mander-in-chief, Suleiman was sent to confront Gourko, and even 
England took alarm. Her side of that complex political problem,. 
"The Eastern Question," was involved, and as there are few 
spots on the face of the earth where a fight can come off without 



846 PLEVNA. 

stirring up a British subject, so here the interests of Great 
Britain in restraining Russia from control of the Bosphorus and 
Dardanelles became threatened by such sweeping success, and 
promptly the great English fleet was sent steaming to Besica 
Bay, while her foundries and arsenals at home resounded with 
the clang of preparation for war. All seemed agreed that it was 
right for Russia to whip Turkey — but not too much. 

But, in winning Nicopolis, Baron Kriidener had lost some 
1,300 officers and men, and had found an enemy that showed 
fine stomach for fighting. The Turks had succumbed to supe- 
rior numbers and scientific disposition of force, and the fall of the 
old fort was a misfortune which involved the surrender of over 
100 guns, 10,000 small arms, two monitors and 7,000 men. 
Whether success of this kind turned Kriidener's head, or 
whether this effect was confined to his subordinates, does not 
appear; but that somebody was to blame for the horrible blunder 
that followed is beyond peradventure. With all his admirable 
cavalry at his disposal, Kriidener's advance stumbled on up the 
valley of the Vid and into the clutches of the bravest army and 
the best soldiers Turkey could possibly lay claim to — 40,000 
seasoned veterans — and Osman Pasha. 

From the city of Widdin, more than one hundred miles up the 
valley, this strong column had come marching down on the Rus- 
sian flank. Another column 12,000 strong had been ordered up 
from Sophia, across the Balkans. Prisoners taken at Nicopolis 
told Kriidener that heavy reinforcements were on the road. Com- 
mon sense ought to have told him that they would be coming. 
Then his Caucasian Cossacks up the Vid said they saw them 
coming, and neither the grand duke nor Kriidener seems to have 
thought the tidings of any importance. " Occupy Plevna as 
promptly as possible," were the orders sent to Kriidener, and, 
obedient to them, the baron directed General Schilder-Schuldner 
on the 1 8th of July to advance and seize the town. A strong 
division was under this officer's command, and a brigade of Cos- 
sack cavalry was ordered to report to him for duty. He had 
6,500 men and forty-six guns. While part of his force marched 
westward along the Rustchuk road toward Plevna, and his Don 




ABDUL HAMID, SULTAN OF TURKEY. 



RUSSIAN ARMY IN A TRAP. 849 

Cossacks followed the river road up the Vid to his right, Schil- 
der-Schuldner himself with the main body and with no cavalry- 
near him at all, pushed out southwestward on Plevna. At two 
o'clock on the afternoon of the 19th, the Don Cossacks — taking 
dinner after their gipsy fashion, over on the banks of the Vid— 
were amazed to hear the booming of cannon eight miles out to 
the southeast. Instead of covering their general's front, here 
they were far to his right and rear, and he, meantime, had stum- 
bled into trouble among the hills around Plevna. Promptly they 
bundled up pots and kettles, sprang into saddle and went clatter- 
ing off to the support of their comrades; but, the moment they 
got in sight of Plevna, and before they could reach their chief, 
they found the way barred by the long lines of red-fezzed Turks. 
In the same way the Nineteenth regiment, advancing from the 
east, was confronted by Turkish skirmish lines, and the centre 
ran slap into a brace of well-handled batteries that not only 
checked the advance but inflicted severe loss upon the columns. 
Still, he had no idea the Turks were in force, and though his 
people bivouacked for the night on a sweeping circle of seventeen 
miles, the Russian general determined on an assault at daybreak, 
July 20th, and this led. 

THE FIRST BATTLE OF PLEVNA, 

a short and sharp one. Schilder-Schuldner meant to take the 
initiative at dawn, but the Turks were ahead of him. At four in 
the morning they pounced upon his Don Cossacks at Bukova, 
just north of the town, and so opened the ball on the Russian 
right. A battery was sent to the aid of the Cossacks, while the 
centre confidently pushed forward ; three batteries and six battal- 
ions assaulted the heights of Grivitza east of the town, and after 
a lively fight whipped the Turks out of the west end of their 
improvised field-works and raced them under the very garden- 
walls of Plevna. But here there came stubborn resistance, and 
at seven o'clock*the Seventeenth and Eighteenth regiments found 
themselves in a very hot and uncomfortable place, while their 
guns were still shelling the east end of the Grivitza lines. 

Far around to the Rustchuk road the Nineteenth regiment had 



850 PLEVNA. 

early begun the assault of the Turkish outposts, and had been 
successful in driving them in as far as the town, but here they, 
too, came to a stand, unable to make headway and unwilling to 
go back. Farther south the Caucasian Cossack brigade pitched 
in with its feeble battery, and to no perceptible effect. The guns 
were too short-ranged to be of any use. But the Nineteenth had 
suffered heavily, and needed aid, so the brigade was drawn in 
towards them just in time to take part in the next phase of the 
battle, a general retreat. 

Over on the Russian right the Don Cossacks had been suc- 
cessful in beating back the Turks and following them to the lines 
of the town. Then came the counter-stroke. 

All this time the main body of Osman Pasha's force had lain 
in quiet retirement within the streets of Plevna. Now of a sud- 
den it burst forth in furious attack north and east. Column after 
column came surging forth from the gates until the slopes were 
lined with the red skull-caps and flashing with the scathing vol- 
leys of the Peabody-Martinis. Brave as was the struggle made 
by Schilder-Schuldner, his effort was all in vain. His patient 
infantry never broke or scattered, but, torn, crippled and bleeding, 
fell slowly and stubbornly back until, at five o'clock, the firing 
ceased and the Russian advance on the right flank was shattered. 

So heavy were the losses in killed and wounded that the Rus- 
sians had to leave them on the field, and so great was the de- 
struction of artillery horses that seventeen caissons had to be 
abandoned. Twenty-two officers were killed, fifty-two wounded, 
and 2,771 men were lost in the same way; more than two-thirds 
of the officers, and one-third of the rank and file being thus 
placed hors de combat. The Turkish loss was probably no 
greater, while to them remained the glory of victory. General 
Schilder-Schuldner had blindly ordered the assault of a force four 
times his strength, and was deservedly beaten. 

Baron Kriidener could not but feel the utmost chagrin at this 
unforeseen result of his attempt to occupy Plevna. The command 
was speedily withdrawn to the neighborhood of Nicopolis, and 
vigorous measures were taken to bring up the entire Ninth corps 
to the renewal of the attack. Meantime, the Turks were not 



STRONG POSITION OF THE TURKS. 851 

idle. For ten days they worked like beavers, strengthening their 
intrenchments east of the town and around to Bukora on the 
north, and by July 30th Osman Pasha had 40,000 well-trained 
troops at his back ; and the concentration of the Ninth Russian 
corps on the heights, to the northeast, gave him little concern. 
Ten days after the disaster to Schilder-Schuldner came 

THE SECOND BATTLE OF PLEVNA, 

/ought July 30th, and fought somewhat against the wishes of 
Baron Kriidener, the immediate Russian commander. He had 
carefully studied the position, marked the strength of the re- 
doubts and lines of the Grivitza heights, and become dubious as 
to the result of direct assault. Then, too, he had learned to 
dread putting in his troops against that fearful fire of small-arms 
— a fire that carried off his people at what he and they had 
hitherto considered artillery range. Long before his leading lines 
could throw their fire upon the Turks, those American-made 
bullets were whistling over their heads and bringing down by 
the dozen, men in the distant reserves. Kriidener telegraphed 
for further instructions and they came, sharp and stern and sting- 
ing. The grand duke could not understand his wing-com- 
mander's hesitancy, and said so in as many words. This left 
poor Kriidener no alternative. He gave the word and did his 
best, but Osman Pasha was far too much for him, as the results 
will show. 

The town of Plevna, with its labyrinth of narrow, crooked 
streets, lies in a deep depression where the valleys of two little 
streams — Tutchenitza creek from the south, and Grivitza brook 
from the east — unite to form the east fork of the river Vid. All 
around it, east, west, north and south, are high rolling hills, and 
deep ravines with precipitous banks. The highway to the east 
runs up the valley of the Grivitza brook and skirts on the south- 
ern edge the little hamlet of that name, some four miles out. 
South of the high-road and jutting southeastward are two high 
ridges separated by a little stream purling through a deep gorge. 
On the first of these ridges — the northernmost — the Turks 
had built four strong redoubts, bristling with guns ; three of 



852 PLEVNA. 

them overhanging the ravine which separated them from the 
southern ridge, known as the Radischevo ridge, from a bunch of 
rural cottages to which that name is given as a village deserving 
of some distinction. It nestles close under the crest along the 
southern slope, and was the scene of some of the most stirring 
features of the second battle, for here were the headquarters of 
Lieutenant-General Shakofskoi and the left wing of the Russian 
attack. North of the Grivitza brook and a mile northwest of 
Grivitza itself, perched on the summit of a commanding knoll, 
was another strong redoubt — the Grivitza, it was called. From 
here, around to Bukora to the west and the Plevna ridge to the 
south, were freshly dug lines of rifle-pits, and the ridges between 
the lower redoubts were scored and seamed with them. West of 
Plevna to the Vid, there were no works at all ; but down in the 
valley on the northwestern skirts of the town lay a reserve camp 
where 20,000 men could be held in readiness to move in any di- 
rection, and where probably that many men were posted, and 
not one of the encircling Russians could see them. 

South of Plevna runs the high-road to Lovtcha, climbing up 
between the knolls of what are called the Green Hills, and when 
it became his duty to attack the position of the Turks, Krudener 
sent across this road and up into those hills a little brigade of 
Cossacks with their horse-battery, and this was the command of 
a young major-general who won world-wide fame during the 
fighting that followed — Skobeleff. Greene designates him as 
Skobeleff II., to distinguish him from the senior Skobeleff, who 
was a lieutenant-general, and in command of the united division 
of Don, Terek and Caucasian Cossacks. 

With only 30,000 disposable men, Baron Kriidener was now to 
attempt the assault of a superior force, far better armed and in a 
strong position. To us, who know that Osman Pasha has 
40,000 men with cannon and rifles that can far outshoot the 
Russian arms, the result must be a foregone conclusion. The 
grand duke had refused to believe the Turks were in heavy force, 
and being himself at Tirnova, eighty miles away, he gave his 
orders with all the incisiveness of the autocrat that he was. 

Early on the morning of the 30th of July the Ninth cavalry 



A LONG-RANGE DUEL. 853 

division marched forward on the extreme right of the Russian 
lines, and faced the heights to the northeast of Plevna. Kru- 
dener, with the right centre, marched westward and deployed his 
lines facing west, and threatening the Grivitza redoubt and the 
lines north of the brook. Shakofskoi, with the left centre, faced 
northward along the Radischevo ridge, confronting the frowning 
redoubts across the deep ravine, and far over to the west, facing 
Plevna from the southwest, was young Skobeleff with his little 
band of Cossacks. There was a gap of over two miles on a 
bee-line between the right of Shakofskoi's line and the left of 
Knidener's, and as big a gap over to Skobeleff This looked 
ominous. Krudener had along this circular line 176 guns, 
thirty-six battalions, and thirty squadrons. 

While the cavalry on his widely separated flanks were ordered 
to guard well all approaches, the right centre was directed to 
assault the Grivitza redoubt and ridge, the left centre the Plevna 
ridge, and the reserve, one brigade, was held in rear of the centre 
near Karagatch. 

It was seven o'clock before the simultaneous advance and de- 
ployment began. By eight o'clock the right centre, advancing in 
two deep lines, moved gradually into range of the Turkish guns 
in the big redoubt, but, never halting until it came within 3, OCX) 
yards and its own guns could be brought into play, the leading 
division (the Thirty-first) swept steadily on. At half-past eight 
its four batteries unlimbered and opened fire, while the infantry 
^ay down and watched the long-range duel. In the same way 
Shakofskoi's wing marched unopposed to Radischevo. There it 
deployed, ran forward its guns to the crest and opened on the 
redoubts only 1,500 to 2,500 yards away, across the ravine. By 
nine o'clock the foothills of the Balkans were ringing with the 
reverberations of some two hundred guns, and for six mortal 
hours, while the infantry lay prone upon the ground and never 
pulled trigger or made a move, this incessant thunder was kept 
up. At the end of that period Krudener decided he had had 
enough artillery practice and it was time to do something. Thus 
far two Turkish batteries (small ones) were silenced, and three 
Russian guns were dismounted, as the apparent result of a vast 
expenditure of time and ammunition. 



854 PLEVNA. 

Now, however, it was the infantry's turn, and the serious busi- 
ness of battle began. At half-past two the columns of the right 
centre sprang to their feet and pushed out over the slopes toward 
the smoke-crowned heights of Grivitza, and at the same moment 
Shakofskoi's lines popped up over the Radischevo and swept 
forward to the assault of the works along the Plevna ridge. In 
the right wing the command had been divided into two columns 
— one assaulting from the northeast, the other from the east. The 
first column was made up of the battalions of the One Hundred 
and Twenty-first and One Hundred and Twenty-third regiments, 
with the Seventeenth and Eighteenth in reserve. The second 
column, assaulting from the direction of the village of Grivitza, 
was made up of the One Hundred and Twenty-second regiment 
and the First battalion of the One Hundred and Twenty-third. 
Attacking in " company columns," according to the system in 
vogue before ~ such guns as the Peabody were made known to 
them, these devoted regiments marched forward to a useless 
sacrifice. The instant their purpose became apparent, the Turk- 
ish infantry manned their parapets, opened fire with their long- 
range rifles, and the work of destruction began. Before they were 
fairly within a mile of the coveted redoubt the men were drop- 
ping by scores far back in the second and third lines, pierced by 
bullets which seemed to come from the clouds. Amazed, yet 
undaunted, they plunged ahead, holding their own fire until they 
could reach a point from which their Krenks could possibly carry 
into the Turkish lines ; but, long before such a position could 
be attained, hundreds of their number were stricken down by a 
hail of lead against which there was neither reply nor shelter. 
Sadly crippled, yet still in determined order, the Penza regiment 
pushed bravely on, and when at last within charging distance 
its leading battalion burst forward with the "hurra!" and act- 
ually leaped into the first line of earthworks; but by this time 
they were far too few in number to hold the prize, and the Turks 
would have made short work of their remnant but for the sup- 
porting rush of the Second battalion that came cheering over 
the trenches just in time. Thus reinforced, the Russian advance 
swept on, drove the Turks out of the second line down into the 



MURDEROUS WORK OF THE " PEABODYS." 855 

ravine beyond, then up the slopes to the shelter of the Grivitza 
redoubt itself. The Second battalion followed so closely on the 
heels of the fleeing Turks as to be able to dash over the para- 
pet in the ardor of pursuit; but here the gallant major who led 
them was killed, and the three leading companies literally cut 
to pieces. The Turks swarmed to the breastworks, and, keep- 
ing under shelter themselves, held their rifles over the parapets, 
and, firing at random in many instances, made havoc in the dense 
masses of the Russians swarming up to the assault. Others 
aimed and fired with practiced eye and hand, and the precision 
and rapidity of their aims were too great for possibility of suc- 
cess on the part of the assailants. The other battalions of the 
Penza regiment made a most gallant and determined attack in 
support of their Second, but the fire was simply terrible, and in 
a very few moments they were hurled back, bleeding and van- 
quished, into the ravine, leaving on the slopes or in the redoubt 
twenty-nine officers and 1,006 men shot down — one-half their 
officers, one-third of their men. 

Instead of making simultaneous assault, the two battalions of 
the One Hundred and Twenty-third waited apparently to see 
what the effect of the Penza's charge would be. This was a 
grievous blunder, recalling the very unprofessional style in 
which our militia and volunteer regiments were put in at the 
first Bull Run. Seeing their comrades vanquished, the One 
Hundred and Twenty-third very pluckily made an attempt 
of their own, but they too, despite the aid of the reduced 
Seventeenth and Eighteenth regiments, were sent staggering 
back into the ravine, with losses almost as great. Two 
hours of the sharpest kind of fighting along the northern front 
had resulted in general disaster, and no better success had 
attended Kriidener's attack from the east. Here the regiments 
of Tamboff and of Galitz only succeeded in getting within 400 
yards of the redoubt, where, harassed by savage volleys from 
front and from their left flank, where a lot of Turks had crept 
out among the trenches, they were compelled to stand at bay 
and fight, firing as best they could. It was an inglorious effort, 
and no good came of it. 
52 



856 PLEVNA. 

Far over to the south, Shakofskoi at Radischevo had put in 
two fresh regiments. These fellows made a spirited rush down 
into the ravine, and then, partially sheltered by the steep banks, 
slowly and steadily crawled to the top, and, despite a murder- 
ous fire that mowed them down when they once more appeared, 
they dashed forward with ringing cheers, and, though their 
own losses were terrible, they whipped the Turks out of the two 
eastern redoubts and captured two of their guns. This was im- 
portant and really unexpected success. Could Shakofskoi but 
hold them, and from them drive the enemy out of the other two 
and down the slopes into Plevna, the town and the reserve 
camp would be at his mercy, for by this time the reserve 
camp had been discovered. Skobeleff far over across the Lov- 
tcha road among the Green Hills, had pushed daringly for- 
ward early in the day to the edge of the bluffs overlooking 
Plevna and the entire field, and there his soldier's eye was 
caught by that great magazine of men down behind the town, 
and he at least no longer doubted the presence of Osman's entire 
force. 

Rut it was after five o'clock. Shakofskoi's right was now 
resting in the outermost redoubt, while his left was down in the 
ravine close to town. No help could come from Krudener. 
A great gap intervened between them, and into this the 
Turks were pushing a strong force. At five o'clock Krudener 
had called on his last reserves, sent one regiment to Shakofskoi 
and taken the other himself, but even as it came marching to 
support the south attack, this first-named regiment (the One 
Hundred and Nineteenth) caught sight of the Turks swarming 
into the gap between the wings, and promptly faced and gave 
them battle. Despite the gallant conduct of this reserve and 
his best efforts on the ridge, Shakofskoi found himself at six p. M. 
hemmed in on three sides by overpowering numbers, and all 
thought of further advance was abandoned. The question now 
was, could they get out of it at all ? 

Thanks to Skobeleff the answer came, and the left was saved. 
No sooner had he discovered the force still held in reserve by 
the Turks, than he saw that they had not only men enough to 



ANOTHER GRIEVOUS RUSSIAN DISASTER. 857 

check Shakofskoi's advance, but to swing out southerly and en- 
velop his left and rear. Never waiting to give them a chance to 
do this, he daringly lunged forward with his little battery and a 
few " sotnias " (squadrons) of Cossacks, and actually challenged 
them to combat. The Turkish force that would otherwise have 
worked around the flank of Shakofskoi — some 5,000 infantry — 
had to turn to drive off this cloud of hornets that hung about 
them ; but Skobeleff kept his light guns and lighter horsemen 
fighting daringly, tenaciously, brilliantly all the live-long after- 
noon and most of the morning, and the slow moving infantry 
of the Turks, in exasperation and rage, could only empty 
their cartridge boxes in random, long-range fire at him and his 
troopers, and were never allowed to" get near Shakofskoi at all. 
At darkness, therefore, the latter was able to fall back to the : 
Radischevo ridge, and early next morning, finding Kriidener 
gone, he marched eastward to Poradim, whither Osman did not 
care to pursue. 

Just before dark, Kriidener ordered one final and combined 
assault, and the order was obeyed by all whom it reached, 
but to no good purpose. It only added to the fearful sum of 
casualties on the Russian side, and when finally his lines were 
driven back, leaving scores of dead behind, Kriidener gave the 
order to retire. 

The day's losses had been very great. They were most severe 
in the One Hundred and Twenty-first regiment of Kriidener's 
wing, and the One Hundred and Twenty-sixth in Shakofskoi's, 
as these two led the assault on their respective fronts. The 
latter left 725 killed and 1,200 wounded on the slopes — "75 per 
cent, of its strength;" and, out of the 30,000 engaged, the total 
Russian loss was 169 officers and 7,136 men, 2,400 of whom had 
been shot dead on the field. 

No one knows just what casualties befell the Turks, but it is 
claimed that over 5,000 were placed hors de combat. 

And so, in disaster more grievous than the First, ended the 
Second Battle. It had been blindly ordered by the grand duke, 
blindly attempted and blunderingly fought. The two wings were 
not in supporting distance of each other. The regiments made 



858 PLEVNA. 

no combined assaults, but one was sent in after another had 
failed, and their old-fashioned compact order in company col- 
umn was kept up too long after they got into hot fire. The 
only brilliant work of the bravely fought day was Skobeleff's 
daring and skillful manoeuvring on the extreme left. He un- 
doubtedly, as Greene says, " saved Shakofskoi from being knocked 
to pieces." 

Well ! It blocked the Russian march of triumph then and 
there. It would be impossible to attempt to pierce the Balkans, 
while Osman with his strong corps held the line of the Vid on 
the right flank. Only one plan could be adopted. Stand on the 
defensive and telegraph home for the reserves. The tsar was at 
the front, and there was no delay. On August 3d the guards, the 
grenadiers, and four more divisions of the line, with the appro- 
priate artillery, were summoned to the scene on this " second 
alarm," and 120,000 regulars and 460 additional guns were 
promptly started for Bulgaria. At the same time, 188,000 militia 
were called to arms to fill up gaps at the front. The Prince of 
Roumania, too, was appealed to, and his army of 37,000 men 
was ordered to Nicopolis. 

Some weeks, however, must elapse before the reinforcements 
could reach the field, and now was Turkey's opportunity ; but 
the nation had no head. Three armies acting under three inde- 
pendent commanders were in the field, only a few days' marches 
apart. Mehemet Ali at Shumla, with 65,000 men along the 
Lorn; Suleiman at Yeni Zagra, in front of Gourko's lair in the 
Balkans with 40,000, and Osman here at Plevna, holding the Vid 
with 50,000. A " war-council " at Constantinople directed the' 
movements by telegraph, and not a thing was done. Suleiman 
hung for months in front of Gourko, shooting at the pickets in 
Shipka Pass, gaining nothing and losing much. Mehemet 
waited until August 30th, then drove the Russian left to the 
Yantra, but there irresolutely stopped short. Osman at 
Plevna made a fluttering assault, August 31st, on the gathering 
corps of the Russians, which amounted to next to nothing, and 
ten days after, came the Russian counter-hit, which is known 
as the 



CAPTURE OF LOVTCHA. 859 

THIRD BATTLE OF PLEVNA, 

fought September nth, and won, like the other two, by the 
Turks. Ever since the second battle, the genius of Osman had 
kept them hard at work with their spades, and by this time 
Plevna was a citadel — a walled city, though the walls were ugly 
earth-works. 

By the 1st of September 100,000 Russian and Roumanian 
troops were assembled around Plevna, and the grand duke de- 
termined to attack at once, and crush this persistent obstacle to 
the onward move. As preliminary, he directed a column up the 
Vid to the town of Lovtcha, lying south of Osman's stronghold, 
and being the most important position on the road to the Bal- 
kans. With Lovtcha in Russian hands, it was then proposed 
to envelop Plevna, and by simply contracting the circle, crush 
the Turks into surrender. General Imeretinsky, with brilliant 
young Skobeleff as right-hand man, was selected for the com- 
mand of the Lovtcha column, and on the 3d of September he 
won a sharply fought battle, driving the Turks out of their forts 
after desperate resistance, and then whirling his Cossacks after 
their retreating horde, lancing 3,000 of them in the melee. With 
Lovtcha won, Prince Charles of Roumania took command of 
all the Russian forces around Plevna; the tsar and the Grand 
Duke Nicholas came over from the east to watch the struggle, 
took up their temporary abode near the village of Radnitza, and 
the whole army knew that the third and greatest of the battles for 
the possession of Plevna was to be fought forthwith. At this 
moment the troops of the Russian right were composed as fol- 
lows : the Roumanian contingent, under General Cernat, 30,000 
strong ; the Fourth corps, now led by General Kryloff (Zotof 
having been made chief of staff); the Ninth corps, under Baron 
Knidener ; the Second division and one rifle brigade, under 
Imeretinsky, and two brigades of Cossacks. The Fourth and 
Ninth corps were severely reduced in numbers, having done 
pretty much all the fighting, and lost some 13,000 men up to 
that time ; but the total force hurled upon Osman Pasha, in this 
third attack, was at least 90,000 men, with some 440 guns. The 
Turks had an estimated strength of 56,000 infantry, with 2,500 
cavalry and 80 guns. 



860 PLEVNA. 

The two highest points in the immediate neighborhood of 
Plevna were the Grivitza knoll to the eastward, where the Gri- 
vitza redoubt had been built early in the campaign, and the Krishin 
height, 3,000 yards southwest of the town. These two com- 
manded the ground in every direction, and were the actual key- 
points of the situation. When the second battle of Plevna 
was fought, and Skobeleff so brilliantly held the left, over 
on the Green Hills, there were no Turkish earthworks on their 
summits ; but no sooner had Osman rid himself of Kriidener, on 
the 30th of July, than he seized and began the fortification of 
those heights. Now, he had eighteen staunch and powerful re- 
doubts around Plevna, and those of Grivitza and Krishin com- 
manded all the others, with which they were connected by lines 
of trenches and rifle-pits. Greene divides the fortifications into 
what he terms three " groups," and it simplifies the explanation 
of the field. The first group was made by the two redoubts on 
the Grivitza ridge and the lines stretching westward from them ; 
the second or middle group, of the redoubts and works on what 
we have thus far called the Plevna ridge — that which, ending in 
abrupt bluffs at the town, ran out southeastward parallel with the 
Grivitza brook and to the south of it ; and the group also included 
the works on a spur of the Radischevo ridge, between the 
Tutchenitza creek and the deep ravine under the Plevna heights. 
The third group consisted of all the works out to the southwest, 
towards Krishin, none of which, as has been said, were built 
until after the second battle. On three sides, therefore, Plevna 
was well defended. The fourth or west front was protected by 
rolling, heavily wooded slopes, and was not " invested." 

On the evening of September 6, with three days' cooked rations 
in their haversacks and all tents left behind, the Russians silently 
moved forward from their camps and closed around the scarred 
heights that looked down on Plevna. The Roumanian army 
took post among the hills enveloping the Grivitza heights from 
the northwest. Kriidener, with the Ninth corps, trudged into 
position south of Grivitza and reaching round to Radischevo, so 
as to confront " the middle group " from the east and southeast. 
Kryloff, with the Fourth corps, climbed the Radischevo ridge 



RUSSIA'S SALUTE TO THE CRESCENT. 861 

and deployed along its crest, rapidly posting his batteries so as 
to command from the south the parapets of the middle group 
on the Plevna ridge; while over on the extreme left, towards the 
Lovtcha high-road, Imeretinsky and Skobeleff led their men, the 
latter as before having the prominent station at the left front. 
For these last named it was a long, toilsome march, but for the 
Roumanians and the Ninth corps a mere advance of a few miles. 
Strange as it may seem, not a shot was fired, not a challenge was 
heard. Nothing, not even the barking of village dogs, seems 
to have given to the drowsy Turks the faintest intimation that 
anything aggressive was going on. Krudener's men came bur- 
dened with ready-made gabions, fascines, and platforms for siege- 
guns, and at nine o'clock their engineers had staked off the out- 
lines of two powerful batteries, within .commanding range of the 
Grivitza redoubt. At midnight they were finished ; the heavy 
guns were rolled into place, and at dawn, when the outlines 
of the Turkish fort became visible, its occupants were astonished 
by a thundering roar from the heights below Grivitza, and the 
boom and crash of a shell overhead. It was Russia's morning 
salute to the Crescent. A few Turks popped up in sight on the 
parapet, the guard probably, and then leaped below and aroused 
the garrison with the startling news that the valleys and heights 
to the east, north and south, were black with Russians. Before 
the artillerymen could get to their guns the storm had burst from 
all sides, and the bombardment of the lines of Plevna had begun. 

It lasted all day. The siege-guns and field nine-pounder bat- 
teries mainly concentrated their fire on the Grivitza redoubt. 
But earthworks are tough ; a stone fort would have been knocked 
out of shape in a few hours ; yet, when night came, despite the 
way the dirt and dust had been flying from its flanks all day, the 
saucy little redoubt looked serviceable as ever, and not one of its 
eight guns had been silenced. This was disheartening. Nothing 
had been accomplished worth recording except that Imeretinsky 
and Skobeleff had pushed farther west across the Lovtcha road. 

September 8th began as did the 7th, with a continuous banging 
at long range from the big guns. The Ninth cavalry division 
was sent across the Vid north of Plevna, to hold the Sophia road 



862 PLEVNA. 

and cut off communications ; but around the beleaguered town 
there would probably have been still another day of tedious, 
nerve-wearing, and resultless long-range gun-practice, had it not 
been for that irrepressible Skobeleff. He was the Sheridan of the 
campaign, and no pottering about at cannon-range would suit him. 

From the heights around Brestovitz, Skobeleff had caught 
sight of the new redoubts north of Krishin. Unlimbering his 
batteries he began pounding with them at over two-mile distance, 
but finding that at that range Turkish guns were far better than 
his own, he closed in. Many another general would have drawn 
back, because his guns were inferior; Skobeleff pushed ahead 
until so close that one gun was as good as another, and all de- 
pended on men and leaders. Turkish infantry were scattered 
through the Green Hills east of Krishin. Skobeleff took the 
Fifth and Eighth regiments and made squarely at them, driving 
them out of the first or southern knoll, and concentrating them 
on the second. This second knoll lay out on the prolongation 
of the Fourth corps lines on Radischevo heights across the 
Tutchenitza, and directly east and under the guns of Krishin. 
Giving his men brief breathing spell, Skobeleff pushed ahead, 
whipped the Turks out of this second knoll, chased them to the 
third, and never stopped until within 1,500 yards of Plevna itself; 
far ahead of Kryloff 's lines and with those Krishin redoubts to 
his left rear. This, of course, was a false position, and though 
victorious, he had to fall back to the first knoll to save his men 
from useless slaughter. 

On the 9th the Turks at Grivitza ridge ceased artillery fire, 
and the Prince of Roumania, thinking them cowed by the severity 
of the two days' bombardment, essayed an assault with infantry, 
but the attack was greeted by such a fury of small-arm fire that 
it recoiled in great disorder. Then, over at the other end of the 
field — the southwest — the Turks took heart and advanced in force 
against Skobeleff, and he whipped them back with the utmost 
ease. That night there came from General Zotof an order virtu- 
ally reversing the relations of Imeretinsky and Skobeleff, and 
placing the latter in supreme charge of all matters on the left 
flank. 



SKOBELEFF TO THE FRONT. 863 

All next day, the ioth, the Russian batteries hammered away 
at the Turkish earthworks, raising much dust and uproar, but 
doing very little damage. The Turks ceased firing, but only be- 
cause ammunition was scarce. That afternoon it began to rain in 
torrents, a peculiar and almost inevitable sequel to a three days 
cannonade, and the ground was turned into black and pasty mud. 
Notwithstanding this, the general assault was ordered for the fol- 
lowing day. 

Dawn of the nth came in dense and drizzling fog. The 
guns were hushed, for all objects across the ravines were hidden 
from view. The plan of attack contemplated a fierce bombard- 
ment of the Grivitza fort and redoubt No. 10 — the latter being 
the one southeast of Plevna and nearest the Radischevo ridge — 
and then at 3 p. m., a simultaneous rush of the infantry upon them 
and upon the works west of the Lovtcha road, southwest of Plevna. 
As a preliminary, Skobeleff' s men, on the west, had leaped for- 
ward the morning of the ioth, seized the second knoll, and with 
bayonets, soup-dishes — anything that could scoop — they had has- 
tily and successfully pitched up earthworks, that swallowed the 
Turkish bullets and left the plucky occupants dirty, but secure. 
Skobeleff then ran forward his guns, and got ready for work on 
the nth. 

The battle began, and ended, with him. Early in the morning 
the dripping sentries along the Russian lines were greeted by the 
rapidly quickening rattle of musketry off to the distant left; then 
came the boom of field-guns, and soon the sound of battle was 
the reveille of the rest of the Russian army. The Turks had 
pushed out through the fog in hopes of surprising Skobeleff and 
inducing him to drop his guns, and the new position on the sec- 
ond knoll, and fall back. But there was no falling back with Sko- 
beleff. He and his men were on the alert, and the Turks were 
received with such firmness by the advanced skirmishers that 
the attack was not pressed, and presently quiet reigned again, 
and both sides seemed waiting for the fog to lift. Ten o'clock 
came, and Skobeleff could stand inaction no longer. Calling on 
his men, he sent them forward across a shallow ravine, up the 
slopes beyond, and there, after a sharp tussle, they drove out the 



864 PLEVNA. 

Turkish light troops and seized the third knoll, where the fog 
for the present exempted them from the fire of the redoubts, but 
not from that of the adjacent trenches. These gave the new- 
comers much trouble. A lively little battle ensued, and just as 
the men on Kryloff's left along the Radischevo were wondering 
if they would not have to go over to the aid of Skobeleff, they 
found themselves suddenly summoned to repel a furious sortie. 
The Turks from Plevna had crept up the ravines, and, veiled by 
the fog, had got close in upon the Russian lines ; the Sixty-third 
regiment, after a fierce short-range fight, sent them scattering 
back down the slopes and then rushed forward in pursuit; the 
One Hundred and Seventeenth followed suit. Down they went 
into the ravine, up the opposite ridge, over the Turkish works, 
and there came in full view of the swarming redoubts right, left, 
and in front of them. They were trapped ; and only half their 
number got back alive. In a few short moments most of their 
officers and one-half of the men were shot down. There was no 
more fight for those regiments that day, and Kryloff's left wing 
was shattered. 

At noon the rising fog revealed the ground sufficiently to per- 
mit the guns to get to work, and until 2 p. m. there was a con- 
tinuous thunder of artillery. But this uplifting of the curtain 
was bad for Skobeleff. It showed him far out to the front on the 
distant left, and in an instant he and his men became the target 
of the Krishin redoubts to his left rear, and even the guns on the 
Plevna heights. Still he hung on, hoping that when the general 
advance began he could push forward. Three o'clock came, and 
still the grand duke and General Zotof hesitate about pushing in 
the infantry. More pounding with the big guns was resorted to, 
and under cover of this fire the infantry lines at last advanced. 

Turning first to the northeast — the Roumanian attack on Gri- 
vitza — let us follow Prince Charles' movements. He had two 
strong divisions in line — the Third and Fourth — and with these 
he was ordered to assault from the north and east, while a Russian 
brigade attacked from the south. Thus would the Grivitza fort 
be hemmed in on three sides. It will take but few words to dis- 
pose of this attack — it seemed to take even fewer minutes. The 



THE ROUMANIAN TROOPS REPULSED. 865 

Third division strove to reach the fort through two ravines — one 
from the northwest, one from the northeast. A brigade was sent 
up each. That which took the northwest gully never got any- 
where near the fort. It struck a previously unheard-of line of 
works, was met by a withering fire, and driven back to a distant 
ridge, where it was glad to dig for shelter. The second brigade 
seemed an interminable time climbing its ravine, and meanwhile 
the third column, moving from the east over open ground, and 
severely crippled by the fire that greeted it, reached the redoubt 
alone and unsupported about half-past three. There it received 
the undivided attention of the assailed, and went back in frag- 
ments to the shelter of the village. Then column No. 2 came 
up and took a similar thrashing. The Roumanian troops were 
out of the fight before four o'clock, except the one brigade held 
in reserve. 

By some accident the Russian brigade that was to have made 
a simultaneous assault from the south came up an hour late, but 
they were those splendid fellows of the Seventeenth and Eigh- 
teenth regiments who had already done hard fighting here and 
knew the ground. Aided by the reserve brigade of Prince 
Charles, they clambered up the slopes and over the parapet. 
Here a hand-to-hand fight occurred that lasted half an hour ; 
both the Russian and Roumanian leaders were killed, and a 
heavy percentage of officers and men. And so, towards five 
o'clock, the Grivitza redoubt had beaten off all foes. Now, how- 
ever, came a change. The reserve battalions of the Seventeenth 
regiment came up, and a small force of Roumanians. A new 
and well-conducted assault was made, and after a very spirited 
fight these allied troops forced their way in, and at darkness were 
masters of the long-coveted Grivitza redoubt. The fort and the 
ditch were floored with dead bodies, and this afternoon's attack 
on the stubborn little post had cost the Russians and Rouma- 
nians seventy-eight officers and 3,816 men. 

We turn now to the Redoubt No. 10, in front of which the 
Sixty-third and One Hundred and Seventeenth regiments had 
already lost half their force. Two other regiments of the 
division were available, however, and while four batteries 



PLEVNA. 

blazed away at the redoubt from the west end of the Radischevo 
ridge, they pushed forward into the lower ground in front, 
then turned westward and strove to make headway against 
the fierce storm of musketry which greeted them. A strong 
force of Turks suddenly appeared on the heights to their right, 
and being terribly cut up by this cross-fire, the Russians at 
last reluctantly fell back, but fell back in sullen and disciplined 
order; for, when the Turks came swarming and yelling in mad 
pursuit, the two regiments halted, faced about, lay down and 
checked them with one steady, well-aimed volley, drove them 
back in disorder with another, and then in dignified defeat con- 
tinued their retirement. 

General Zotof meantime had sent over another brigade 
to replace the one so badly crippled during the morning, 
and now this new brigade tried its hand on Redoubt No. 10, 
but could get nowhere near it. At six p. m. all further attempt 
was abandoned; no officers and 5,200 men had been sacrificed 
in the mismanaged assaults on this one portion of the Turkish 
line. 

Now turn to the extreme left, across the Lovtcha road, and 
we come once more to Skobeleff, still sovereign of the Green 
Hills. We left him at noon grimly hanging on to his ex- 
tremely advanced position on the third and northernmost 
knoll, not a thousand yards from the trenches and rifle-pits 
stretching out from the very walls of the little city, and with 
redoubts bristling on every side of him. At two o'clock a 
strong skirmish line came up the northern slope of the third 
knoll, probably to develop his force, but the Sixty-second 
regiment drove them back with curiosity ungratified. At 2.30 
p. m. his troops were all ready for an onward move, and were 
lying prone to escape the shelling. Crouching behind the crest 
of the third knoll were the Sixty-first and Sixty-second regiments 
in strong line, with the Seventh in easy supporting distance, while 
two battalions of rifles were in close reserve behind the leading 
regiments. Back on the second knoll were the Fifth, Sixth, and 
Eighth regiments and the guns and more rifle battalions. 

Just at half-past two, Skobeleff blazed away with his guns over 



SKOBELEFF'S BRILLIANT CHARGE. 867 

the heads of his lines, and then, at three o'clock, sent the foot- 
men in. With fine enthusiasm, with bands all playing, with 
thrilling battle-cry, the first lines pushed gallantly forward, 
crossed the little brook at the foot of the northern slopes, 
and then burst up the opposite bank to attack the strong 
earthworks. By this time, however, they were subjected to very 
severe fire, and so many fell that the men began to falter and 
throw themselves upon the ground. Instantly, the Seventh came 
charging forward in support, and once more they struggled on. 
Now the lines began to show so far up on the slopes as to be dis- 
tinctly in range not only of the Krishin guns off to the southwest, 
but the redoubts across the valley beyond Plevna, both were 
hurling shells upon them in furious force; the musketry fire, 
too, was something fearful, and once more they threw them- 
selves flat on the ground. Then it was that Skobeleff himself 
came dashing out to the front — the most conspicuous man on 
the field. Riding, as he always did, a mettlesome white horse, 
and wearing the glistering white uniform he always affected in 
battle, instead of the sombre field-dress of the Russian generals, 
he was at once the target for all sharpshooters and the centre of 
all eyes. Already the soldiers had begun to know and to glory 
in his personal daring, and now, animated by his superb appear- 
ance and his ringing words, aided, too, by the reinforcements 
tearing along after him, they made one grand and final effort, and 
at last charged home over the breastworks, carrying in with them, 
on their shoulders, it was said, their brilliant young leader. 
Though his horse was killed under him, and most of his staff 
shot down, Skobeleff himself was unhurt. He had lost 3,000 
men in the desperate charge, but had carried the Turkish lines. 
Still, there was no rest for him. All around were those blaz- 
ing redoubts, and now they were concentrating their fire on his 
breathless men, vainly seeking shelter in the trenches they had 
won. The Turks came forth in savage sorties from all the sur- 
rounding works, were met and fairly driven back, and one redoubt 
was fairly and squarely taken. At six P. m. Skobeleff, with four 
regiments and the rifles, held all the Turkish works on the 
heights near and southwest of Plevna, and yet his position was 



868 PLEVNA. 

precarious in the last degree, for to the left and rear were three 
strong forts still manned by the Mussulmans, and their guns were 
booming at him every instant. Six hundred yards in front of 
him was the intrenched camp of the Turks ; off to his right, be- 
yond Plevna, the redoubts of the middle group ; off to his right 
rear, across the valley of the Tutchenitza, Redoubt No. 10. He 
was surrounded by hostile guns. But he hung to his prize all 
night long, despite every effort of the Turks to dislodge him. 

Morning of September 12th dawned clear and sparkling, and 
the grand duke had had enough of battle. Orders had been sent 
at daybreak to Skobeleff to fortify and hold to the last, the posi- 
tion he had won ; but some hours later — probably after reading 
the reports of the fearful array of casualties in the previous day's 
assaults — the Russian leaders gave it up ; sent word to Skobe- 
leff they could afford him no aid; all troops were to be withdrawn, 
and virtually telling him to get out of the scrape as best he could. 
Lieutenant Greene points out clearly that there were still abun- 
dant troops that had not been under fire, and that could well have 
been sent to help Skobeleff; but, to make the matter short, the 
Russians had suffered too much already, and were glad to quit. 
After two days of extreme peril, of daring and devoted bravery, 
of scientific and masterly handling of his little division, Skobeleff 
succeeded in extricating his force; but he had lost 160 officers 
and 8,000 men, and when he got back to the main army, the third 
and last battle of Plevna was over. Russia's total losses in the 
assault and consequent fighting were 18,000 men. The Turks 
are said to have lost between 12,000 and 15,000. 

And now Russia had to sit down before the gates of Plevna 
and try to starve out the men she could not whip. Osman Pasha 
had made a splendid defence, while the other two field com- 
manders of the Turkish army were frittering away their forces 
and their opportunities. Soon the Russian reinforcements 
began to arrive in great numbers. The Guards all arrived 
by October 20th, and Russia's great engineer (Todleben) came 
to conduct the siege. Gourko hastened back from the Bal- 
kans to lend a hand, and, after severe battling at Gorni-Dubnik 
and Telis, the Turks were driven in, and securely penned in, 



FALL OF PLEVNA. gg9 

Pievna. On November 3d the investment was complete. In 
one great circle, some 1 20,000 Russians were day by day cutting 
off the lines of the stubborn defenders. The result was inevit- 
able. Osman refused to surrender — refused to remain and be 
starved to death. He marshaled his men for one sublime effort 
— led a furious attack on the Grenadier corps to the west on the 
ioth of December, was wounded himself, and thoroughly de- 
feated ; and so at last, his provisions being exhausted, one-third 
of his force prostrate with wounds or illness, his ammunition 
well-nigh spent, and having made ever since July a most gal- 
lant and determined resistance to superior numbers, Osman 
Pasha surrendered on the ioth of December, 1877, to an enemy 
who received him with every manifestation of soldierly respect 
and courtesy. 

And now, with Plevna fallen, there was little hope for Turkey. 
Gourko burst through the Balkans — this time near Sophia — and 
kept on to Philippopolis. The united army advanced on Adrian- 
ople, and the last shot of the war was fired in a cavalry skirmish 
at Tchorlu on the 29th. Finding that nothing else would stop the 
advance of the Russians on Constantinople, the Turks, despairing 
of assistance from England, " without the hope of which they would 
never have undertaken the war," signed an armistice which became 
the basis of the treaty of San Stefano, signed by the Powers on 
the 3d of March. By the terms of this, Turkey guaranteed : " 1. 
The erection of Bulgaria into ' an autonomous tributary princi- 
pality, with a national Christian Government and a native militia.' 
' 2. The independence of Montenegro, with an increase of terri- 
tory. 3. The independence of Roumania and Servia, with a ter- 
ritorial indemnity. 4. The introduction of administrative reforms 
into Bosnia and Herzegovina. 5. An indemnity in money to 
Russia for the expenses of the war." 

But England saw menace to her interests in the terms of this 
treaty, and, mainly through her efforts, the representatives of all 
the great European Powers were speedily assembled at the 
German capital. Here were gathered the largest numbers of 
diplomatists who ever signed a treaty, and the treaty itself is said 
to have been the longest ever written. Known to history as " the 



870 PLEVNA. 

Congress of Berlin," this distinguished body signed, on July 13, 
1878, an agreement by which upwards of 30,000 square miles of 
territory and 2,000,000 of population were handed back to the 
Porte, and other modifications were made which enabled Lords 
Beaconsfield and Salisbury to return to England announcing 
" Peace with Honor." 

The crime and blunder of the treaty of Berlin, which took 
from the Turks most of their fortresses and all hold on the val- 
ley of the Danube, were, revealed in the disorders and brutalities 
of subsequent Turkish history. 




PORT ARTHUR. 

1894 

BY TRUMBULL WHITE. 

HE collision between Japan and China, while 
strange to those who were not familiar with 
Eastern affairs, was not a surprise to per- 
sons acquainted with Asiatic politics. China 
claimed to be the mistress of Asia, Japan 
aimed to exalt herself among the first-class 
powers of the civilized world. The collision 
was inevitable, and involved directly, nations 
whose total population included more than 
one-fourth of the human race, the progress of civilization in 
those countries, and the commercial and other interests of 
European and American nations. 

In 1894, China, with scorn of western methods, faced Japan, 
adaptive, western-spirited, and possessing the prestige of a mar- 
velous career during the two score years that had elapsed since 
America knocked at her doors. The result was that, during 
hardly more than the four months succeeding the declaration 
of war, the fighting power of China was destroyed, her economic 
resources exhausted, and she, herself, was forced to beg the mercy 
of Japan. 

At first, the conflict was on the soil of Corea — for centuries a 
land of contention between China and Japan — although these 
two nations had, in 1876, united by treaty to recognize the in- 
dependence of the Corean kingdom. Nevertheless, when the 
province of Chulla rebelled in 1894, the Corean government 
invoked the aid of China. Japan protested at once, and sent 
5,000 soldiers into the distracted country; she demanded also, 
54 (871) 



872 POET ARTHUR. 

immediate reforms, a declaration of independence, and the with- 
drawal of the Chinese forces. China refused these demands and 
soon afterward, Japan declared war against her. Before hostili- 
ties were formally declared, however, the armies and navies of 
China and Japan had several encounters, in which Japan was 
victorious in every instance. 

On October 24th, Count Yamagata, commander-in-chief of 
the Japanese forces in Corea, threw a small force across the Yalu 
river, thus invading Chinese territory; and by the first of Novem- 
ber, one Japanese army was safely installed on the north bank 
of the Yalu, with a second on the Kwang Tung peninsula. The 
capture of Kinchow followed, and on November 7th, the vic- 
torious Japanese occupied Talien-wan, where the Chinese had 
made a very poor defense, in spite of six large and strongly 
constructed forts, mounting eighty comparatively modern guns 
of various calibre. These guns, as well as large stores of ammu- 
nition fell into the hands of the Japanese. The Chinese — panic- 
stricken, fled to Port Arthur. 

Fort Arthur, or to give it its native name Lu-shun-kou, was 
the largest naval station possessed by the Chinese. Situated at 
the extreme southern end of the Liao-Tung peninsula, it had 
grown from a small village to a naval dockyard, boasting a large 
basin with a depth of twenty-five feet at low water. Spacious 
wharves and quays bordered this basin, and were connected 
with the workshops by a railroad. Two dry-docks were built 
for repairing ships of all sizes, from ironclads to torpedo ves- 
sels. Foundries and workshops were constructed on the most 
improved models, and containing the best modern machinery. 
The fact that the harbor was always free from ice, even in the 
coldest winters, added to its value. By the time of the begin- 
ning of the war, the number of houses had increased until they 
were able to contain a population of about 6,000, exclusive of 
the garrison. There were also two large temples, two theatres, 
and several banks, besides the necessary stores and warehouses. 

The land defenses of Port Arthur consisted of nine small 
redoubts on the north and northeast, and three redoubts on the 
southwest. On the north side, a range of hills from 350 to 650 



DEFENSES OF PORT ARTHUR. 873 

feet high, running from the sea to a shallow inlet of the harbor, 
enclosed the position. The tops of these hills were not more 
than 2,500 yards from the dockyard and town. The original 
line of defenses was still closer to the town, and on the northern 
side was only about 1,000 yards in advance of the vital point. 
The strongest part of the position was a group of three coast 
batteries surrounded by a continuous mud wall, and crowning a 
hill on the right of the entrance to the harbor. 

Upon the outbreak of the war, these fortifications were 
strengthened, and the normal garrison of 4,000 men materially 
increased. The troops were drilled on European models, and 
the men who manned the heavy Krupp guns, were trained by a 
German artillerist. Within the defenses were the most recent 
scientific appliances, electric searchlights, torpedo factories, etc. 
The forts were connected by telephones. The harbor defenses 
consisted of submarine mines and a fleet of torpedo boats. 

The Japanese army broke camp at Dojoshu village before 
Port Arthur at 1:00 a. m. on November 21st, and marching by 
circuitous and very difficult routes over the outlying hills, some- 
times quite close to the sea at Pigeon Bay, got into line of bat- 
tle before daylight. The moon was in the last quarter, and 
gave very little light ; the sky was quite clear, and the weather 
dry and cool. 

The key of the position was the northwest triple fort on Table 
Mountain, and there the whole weight of the opening attack 
was concentrated. The Japanese field marshal and his staff 
were mostly near the centre of the line, and the heavy siege ar- 
tillery was planted on the best position available near the centre, 
and north to northeast of Port Arthur, five or six miles away, 
with Suishiyeh and the forts right opposite and well in range. 
The first division under General Yamaji occupied the right 
wing, and had the roughest and most broken country to trav- 
erse. Nine batteries of field and mountain guns were got into 
fine positions, on lofty ridges, nearly on the same level and al- 
most within rifle shot of the forts ; while behind the artillery 
lay large bodies of infantry ready for an attack. Brigadier- 
General Nishi had charge of the extreme right, and Brigadier- 



874 PORT ARTHUR. 

General Nogi the right centre, near the field marshal. On the 
left, Brigadier-General Hasegawa had his mixed brigade rather 
wider apart, as the hills were not near enough to aid greatly in 
an assault on the forts ; nor were the hills very good as artillery 
positions. Hasegawa had only two batteries, but the flying 
column under Lieutenant-Colonel Masamitsu, that had moved 
from San-ju-li Ho on the south shore road was with him, and 
had a mountain battery, besides two battalions of infantry and 
a thousand cavalry. 

The first shot was fired within two or three minutes of seven* 
o'clock, from a battery of thirty guns, just as the day was be- 
coming light enough for gun fire. Then for an hour the Japa- 
nese guns blazed into the Table-Top forts, which with their 
guns of all sizes kept up a spirited reply. In the forts, and in 
the rifle pits on the hillside under the walls, were about one 
thousand infantry ; near the Japanese batteries, trenches had 
been dug in the stony ground during the night, and sheltered 
ravines had been carefully selected, where practically the whole 
of the first division, at least 10,000 men, lay in wait. During 
the first half-hour, the Chinese forts sent 300 shells at the Japa- 
nese trenches, but the elevation was too high, and not a man 
was killed. 

Meanwhile, the Japanese were getting the range, although 
the dense morning mist and the thick clouds of smoke pre- 
vented accurate fire. 

The opening shot of the day, from the Japanese lines, which 
all watched with intense interest, struck within five yards of a 
Krupp gun in the nearest of the three forts. The closeness of 
this shot, in semi-darkness, was a fair indication of what fol- 
lowed. One by one the Chinese guns ceased fire toward 
eight o'clock, and suddenly a great shouting came across 
the valley from the fort. The Japanese infantry were sing- 
ing a march song as they charged the forts, and in a few 
minutes a huge cheer ran all along the line over the hilltops 
and in the valleys where the rest of the Japanese were, and 
great cries of " Kot-ta — Victory ! " The Chinese emptied their 
guns and small arms as the Japanese swarmed up on three 



THE JAPANESE CHARGE. 877 

sides, firing every few yards and then rushing forward. The 
Chinese, not numerous enough for hand-to-hand combat, waited 
no longer, but fled over the edge of the hill, down to the forti- 
fied camps before the town, and the Table Mountain forts dis- 
played the flag of the " Rising Sun." 

After this first success, the rest of the battle was practically 
little more than a question of time, although there was still a 
great deal of hard fighting to follow. Neither side had yet lost 
more than fifty or sixty in killed and wounded, and there were 
still many thousand Chinese soldiers to be considered. Had 
the forts been fully manned with plenty of picked marksmen, 
they should have cost the invaders several hundreds if not 
thousands of lives, and should have held out longer. And, if 
the Chinese artillery fire had been as accurate and steady as the 
Japanese, the vast difference in position and shelter should have 
more than compensated for the disparity in numbers. Careful 
planning, rapidity of attack, and individual bravery were all on 
the Japanese side. The Chinese did not, indeed, run at the 
sound of the Japanese fire. They stood their ground manfully 
and tried their best to shoot straight, up to the last minute ; but 
they never attempted to face the foe hand-to-hand, to " Die in 
the last ditch." 

Only one definite counter-attack was made ; a large force, — 
some 2,000 of Chinese infantry with a few cavalry, marched out 
and around the hills westward, nort of the Port Arthur lagoon, 
to turn the Japanese right flank. General Yamaji, who had 
kept under fire, and near the front, throughout the day, detected 
the attempt at once, and dispatched Brigadier-General Nishi 
with the third regiment and the mountain battery, to meet it. 
The extremely rough, broken country rendered movement 
slow, and this part of the battle dragged on until the afternoon. 

The second regiment had occupied the Isusen forts shortly 
after eight o'clock, and the artillery was then ordered forward. 
The guns had come on late from Talien-wan, by forced marches 
night and day, over a very difficult route, and only arrived at 
Dojoshu on the night of the 20th. The same night twenty of 
these large guns had been placed in position, north and west of 



878 PORT ARTHUR. 

Suishiyeh, and from one to three kilometers from the nearest 
forts. They were supported by the whole of the first division, 
15,000 men, less 2,400 men detailed to garrison Kinchow and 
Talien-wan. Deducting also the regiment of 2,400 sent to head 
off the flank movement in the west, there were 10,000 left be- 
fore the Table Mountain forts. Not more than a third actually 
took part in the storming. Midway between the camp at 
Dojoshu and the large village of Suishiyeh, Field-Marshal 
Oyama and his staff remained during the first part of the day, 
communicating his orders by aides-de-camp, never by flag, or 
flash signal, or bugle, to Yamaji and Hasegawa on the left. 

While Yamaji was attacking the northwest forts, Hasegawa 
engaged the attention of the northeast forts, in order to prevent 
them from concentrating fire on the Japanese right. The Chi- 
nese right wasted their energy on almost bare country, while 
the weight of the Japanese attack fell on the almost entirely 
isolated Chinese left, and by the time the Chinese discovered 
their mistake it was too late. The Shoju, or Pine Tree Hill 
forts opened a heavy fire across Suishiyeh plain, on the hills 
occupied by the Japanese ; but Isu was already finished and the 
whole weight of Japanese artillery was centred on the largest 
Shoju fort. Thus, the Japanese right wing, which had been 
briefly threatened by the forts on its left and the Chinese col- 
umn on its right, was never really in any danger, for while the 
third regiment under Nishi was storming Isu, the second regi- 
ment with its back to the third, beat off the enemy's infantry, 
and the mountain, field, and siege batteries gave Shoju far more 
than it could face. 

It was surprising how the Chinese stood to their guns ; they 
worked like heroes and aimed their guns well. But what could 
a fort or a half-dozen of forts do, against fifty guns hidden in the 
mountains, moving to get better positions when possible, and 
firing systematically and simultaneously at one point. 

A furious fusilade was maintained by both sides for nearly 
two hours ; but the Chinese shots got wilder and wilder as the 
Japanese improved, until finally the Shoju magazine blew up and 
set fire to the sheds inside of the forts. Then, shortly after 



THE SHOJU FOKTS. 879 

eleven o'clock, Hasegavva charged all along the line, and took 
all the eight forts, one by one. The big Shoju fort, which had 
done such determined work was evacuated as soon as it caught 
fire, and for two hours afterward the ruined woodwork burned, 
and the piles of ammunition continued to explode. The second 
largest fort, Liang Leong, or Double Dragon, held out longest. 
Twice the Japanese advancing along a ravine, tried to break 
cover and rush up the hill, but were met by bombs from the 
mortars, and had to get back into shelter and try musketry 
again. Again they came up magnificently at their officers' call, 
and scrambled up the mountain side in the teeth of a galling 
cross fire. At the ramparts, not a Chinaman remained. They 
fled from fort to fort along the high wall, firing as they went, 
and making a stand at every point, till too close for rifles. All 
over the hills they were chased, and for many miles around, 
hardly a hundred yards could be passed without sight of a 
Chinese corpse. Those who escaped got down into the town 
with the main body of the Chinese army. 

Meanwhile, there had been heavy firing, chiefly from infantry, 
between Suishiyeh, Isu and Port Arthur. There was a fiat tract 
about three miles square, with low ridges of mud and stones 
across, behind which the Chinese riflemen lay. They had tried 
to make a stand about the walled camps below Isu, but shells 
and shrapnel soon cleared them out. The Japanese then mus- 
tered in the same place about 2,000 men from the right 
wing and right centre, their troops increasing in number every 
minute, and ready to force the town itself. Between these 
camps and the big drill ground at the entrance to Port Arthur 
were some 3,000 Chinese in skirmishing order, making 
the most of every bit of cover and firing desperately. Behind 
them, the Chinese field guns, some dozen in number, tried to 
locate the enemy and occasionally succeeded ; one shell shat- 
tered a corner of the largest camp, where a dense body of 
Japanese stood behind the wall waiting for orders, and killed 
several of them. Still farther back, a big hill which threatened 
the town swarmed with riflemen, who were sheltered by piles of 
stones and abundantly supplied with ammunition. Last of all, 



860 PORT ARTHUR. 

the shore forts were firing a little, but could not aid much in the 
melee. 

Steadily the Japanese crept forward from cover to cover, as- 
sisted by artillery from Suishiyeh, until the parade ground and 
the general's pavilion overlooking it had been mastered and 
cleared, and nothing remained but the trenches of Boulder hill, or 
Hakugoku, the town itself, and the shore forts. Along the 
south of the parade ground ran a broad, shallow stream that 
came down the Suishiyeh valley, flowing into a creek west of 
Hakugoku. Three times the Japanese came out from behind 
the parade ground wall, to cross the bridge, but were driven 
back by a withering hail of bullets. At last they forced it, 
rushed across with a cheer, and spread out over the face of the 
hill, pursuing the Chinese up to the town itself. The second 
regiment fired volleys as it advanced on the town. Not a shot 
was fired in reply. The battle was over as far as Port Arthur 
was concerned. 

The Japanese fleet was not inactive during the assault by the 
land forces. At 10:30 a. m. the Japanese vessels, comprising 
the Matsusima, Chiyoda, Itsukusima, Hasidate, Yoshino, 
Naniwa, Akitsushima, Takachiho, Fuso, Hiyei, and Kongo 
steamed past Port Arthur, rounding the promontory. The 
Chiyoda here began to fire shells over the forts at a very long 
range. At 4:00 o'clock the fleet returned, passing Port Arthur 
again, at a distance of about six miles, and one of the big forts 
fired at the Chiyoda, but failed to hit her. The Japanese 
admiral did not respond to the fire nor alter his course, but 
steamed slowly on. A few minutes later, as the Chinese troops 
were hurrying down to the harbor, ten torpedo boats dashed 
irom the Japanese fleet, separating in pairs and firing three- 
pounder Hotchkiss guns at the exposed soldiers. The fire was 
briskly responded to by one fort to the left of the harbor, but 
not a single shot told. A steamer which had towed a junk out 
of Port Arthur, was cut off on her return and ran ashore, where 
the crew deserted her and took to the hills. 

As the Japanese troops reached the edge of the town, driving 
the Chinese before them, a halt was called before the army 



PORT ARTHUR FALLS. 881 

marched in, as the force was not yet assembled in strength. 
This delay enabled the Chinese to take to boats, and scores of 
sampans and junks were soon moving off, some over the lagoon 
to the mountain fastnesses of Lao-tieh-shan promontory in the 
southwest, and some out to sea, in full view of the Japanese 
fleet. When the first division was all assembled before the 
town, with the left wing to the northeast in case the enemy 
should rally and try to dash out, the order was given to enter 
the town and storm the inner fort, Golden Hill. The second reg- 
iment led, firing volleys file by file through the streets, past the 
docks, and the burning army stores, up the hill, and into Ogun- 
san, which was practically abandoned without an effort at de- 
fense. 

During the evening Hasegawa's brigade went over the hills, 
and occupied the two eastern shore forts called the " Mule's 
Jaws." The following morning Yamaji's first regiment marched 
around the lagoon and occupied the peninsula forts, which had 
been deserted during the night. The Chinese had vanished, 
but later it was found that most of them got away along the 
beach past Hasegawa, and the rest westward, in small parties 
under cover of darkness. In such a wide stretch of hilly 
country, it was easy to conceal themselves if they once escaped 
from the vicinity of their foes. Port Arthur was in full posses- 
sion of Marshal Oyama, with the fleet under Admiral Ito safe in 
the harbor. 

Before relating the execrable deeds which followed the taking 
of Port Arthur, it is well to glance at Japanese treatment of the 
wounded, in former battles. In 1877, during the Satsuma re- 
bellion, a benevolent society was founded in Japan, to aid and 
care for the sick and wounded — enemies as well as friends, after 
the manner of the European Red Cross societies. This organ- 
ization distinguished itself admirably, and in 1886, when Japan 
declared its adhesion to the Geneva Convention, the " Hakuaisha" 
was reorganized and formally enrolled on the international list 
of Red Cross societies. In 1893, its membership had reached 
nearly 30,000, including members of the royal family. 

During the war with China, scores and hundreds of Chinese 



882 PORT ARTHUR. 

wounded were received and treated with the same care that was 
given the Japanese, in the permanent military hospital at Hiro- 
shima. In Corea there were two hospitals managed by the 
Red Cross society, and at the front the society had a staff of 
doctors, nurses and attendants, as well as ample hospital sup- 
plies. At the beginning of hostilities, the Japanese minister 
of war issued a proclamation, enjoining humanity upon all his 
soldiers, and stating that Chinese atrocities committed in igno- 
rance as to the true meaning of humanity, must not be imitated 
in retaliation. * 

In view of these facts, it is difficult to reconcile the preten- 
sions to enlightened civilization which the Japanese had claimed, 
with the horrible atrocities committed by the victorious army, 
during the days following the capture of Port Arthur. 

Only those who saw the acts of inhuman barbarity, can justly 
describe the scenes during the massacre of the whole remaining 
population of Port Arthur — between 2,000 and 3,000 — without 
distinction of age or sex. Said the correspondent of the 
London Times twelve days after the massacre : 

" What happened after Port Arthur fell into Japanese hands, 
it would have been impossible and even dangerous to report 
while on the spot. At the earliest possible moment, every for- 
eign correspondent escaped from the horrifying scene to a place 
where freedom of speech would be safe ; and as we sailed away 
from Port Arthur on the Nagoto Maru eight days ago, almost 
astonished to find ourselves escaping alive from the awful epi- 
demic of incredible brutality, the last sounds we heard were 
those of shooting, of wanton murder, continued the fifth day 
after the great battle. When the Japanese army entered Port 
Arthur on the 2 1st, beginning a little after two o'clock in the 
afternoon, the Chinese had resisted desperately till the last, re- 
treating slowly from cover to cover, until they got back among 
the buildings on the outskirts of the town. Then at last all 
resistance ceased ; they were thoroughly defeated, and made a 
stampede through the streets trying to hide or to escape, east 
or west as best they might. I was on the brow of a steep hill 
called ' White Boulders,' in Japanese Hakugoku, commanding a 



KILLING EVERY LIVE THING. 883 

close view of the whole town at my feet. When I saw the 
Japanese march in, firing up the streets and into the houses, 
chasing and killing every live thing that crossed their path, I 
looked hard for the cause. I saw practically every shot fired, 
and I swear positively that not one came from any but Japanese. 
I saw scores of Chinese hunted out of cover, shot down, and 
hacked to pieces, and never a man made any attempt to fight. 
All were in plain clothes, but that meant nothing, for the soldiers 
flying from death got rid of their uniforms how they might. 
Many went down on their knees, supplicating with heads 
bent to the ground in kowtow, and in that attitude were butch- 
ered mercilessly by the conquering army. Those who fled 
were pursued and sooner or later were done to death. Never a 
shot came from a house as far as I could see, and I could hardly 
believe my eyes, for, as my letters have shown, the indisputable 
evidence of previous proceedings had filled me with admiration 
of the gentle Japanese. So I watched intensely for the slight- 
est sign of cause, confident that there must be some, but I saw 
none whatever. If my eyes deceived me, others were in the 
same plight; the military attaches of England and America 
were also on Boulder hill and were equally amazed and horrid 
fied. It was a gratuitous ebullition of barbarism they declared, 
a revolting repudiation of pretended humanity. 

" Gun shots behind us turned our attention to the north creek 
leading into the broad lagoon. Here swarms of boats were 
moving away to the west, loaded to twice their normal limit 
with panic-stricken fugitives, men, women, and children, who had 
stayed too late in the beleaguered town. A troop of Japanese 
cavalry with an officer, was at the head of the creek, firing sea- 
ward, slaughtering all within range. An old man and two chil* 
dren of ten and twelve years had started to wade across the 
creek ; a horseman rode into the water and slashed them a 
dozen times with his sword. The sight was more than mortal 
man could stand. Another poor wretch rushed out at the back 
of a house as the invaders entered the front door, firing pro- 
miscuously. He got into a back lane, and a moment later 
found himself cornered between two fires. We could hear his 



884 PORT ARTHUR. 

cry for quarter as he bowed his head in the dust three times ; 
the third time he rose no more, but fell on his side, bent double 
in the posture of petition for the greatly vaunted mercy of the 
Japanese, who stood teu paces off and exultantly emptied their 
guns into him. 

" More of these piteous deaths we saw, unable to stay the 
hands of the murderers ; more and more, far more than one can 
relate, until sick and saddened beyond the power of words tc 
tell, we slowly made our way in the gathering gloom down the 
hill, picking a path through rifle-pits thick with Chinese car- 
tridge cases, and back to headquarters. There at the Chinese 
general's pavilion, facing a spacious parade ground, Field-Mar- 
shal Oyania. and all his officers assembled, amid the strains of 
strange music from the military band, now a weird, character- 
istic Japanese march, now a lively French waltz, and ending 
with the impressive national anthem, ' Kaminoga,' and a huge 
roar from twenty thousand throats, 'Banzai Nippon!' All 
were overflowing with enthusiastic patriotism and the delight 
of a day's work done, a splendid triumph after a hard fought 
fight ; none of the Japanese dreamed that their guests from the 
west were filled with horror, indignation and disgust. It was 
a relief to get away from that flood of fiendish exultation, to 
escape from the effusive glee of our former friends, who would 
overwhelm us with their attention which we loathed like ca- 
resses from the ghouls of hell. To have to remain among men 
who could do what we had seen, was little short of torture. 

" Robbed of our sleep on the eve of the battle, and utterly 
exhausted, we lay long next morning until the sound of shooting 
roused us. To our surprise and dismay we found that the mas- 
sacre of Wednesday, which might have been explained though 
certainly not excused on the ground of excitement in the heat 
of battle, the flush of victory, and the knowledge of dead com- 
rades mutilated, was being continued in cold blood now. Thurs- 
day, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday were spent by the soldiery 
in murder and pillage from dawn to dark, in mutilation, in every 
conceivable kind of nameless atrocity, until the town became a 
ghastly Inferno to be remembered with a fearsome shudder until 



fr**, ^Sfe?" 




"W«"*S3i«5 






^S^L sgs '• £f , ■ ^ ? ' -.1- 




EVERY NOOK LOOTED. 887 

one's dying day. I saw corpses of women and children, three 
or four in the streets, more in the water ; I stooped to pick some 
of them out to make sure that there could be no possibility of 
mistake. Bodies of men strewed the streets in hundreds, per- 
haps thousands, for we could not count — some with not a limb 
unsevered, some with heads hacked, cross-cut, and split length- 
wise, some ripped open, not by chance but with careful pre- 
cision, down and across, disemboweled and dismembered, with 
occasionally a dagger or bayonet thrust in private parts. I saw 
groups of prisoners tied together in a bunch with their hands 
behind their backs, riddled with bullets for five minutes, and 
then hewn in pieces. I saw a junk stranded on the beach, filled 
with fugitives of either sex and of all ages, struck by volley after 
volley until — I can say no more. 

" Meanwhile, every building in the town was thoroughly ran- 
sacked, every door burst open, every box and closet, every nook 
and cranny looted. What was worth taking was taken, and the 
rest destroyed or thrown into the gutter. Even Mr. Hart, Reut- 
er's war correspondent on the Chinese side, whom we found 
when we entered Port Arthur, was robbed of everything but 
the clothes he had on, while his cook and two scully boys in 
the same house were shot at their kitchen stove, while doing 
nothing but their regular work. Mr. Hart himself had told the 
Chinese hotel keeper before the battle not to leave the town, 
because the Japanese would certainly do no harm to citizens or 
property. So thoroughly had been the discipline maintained, 
and so perfect the show of civilized methods in warfare, that 
the present outburst of cold-blooded brutality was the very last 
thing to have been thought possible. 

"The Japanese alleged that the populace of the town had 
been armed with guns and express ammunition, and that the 
army when entering the town had been attacked from the 
houses. I did afterward find cartridges such as these lying 
about ; but I never saw one fired. I never saw any attack from 
the houses. I saw the Japanese firing before they entered, and 
as they entered, without intermission. 

" The Japanese who had been wounded and killed or cap- 



PORT ARTHUR. 

turecl in several skirmishes before the day of the battle, had 
been horribly mutilated by the Chinese. We saw several bodies 
along the line of march, and it is said others were found in the 
town, with hands and heads cut off, stomachs opened, etc. And 
some were burned at Kinchow, and one said to be burned in Port 
Arthur. Moreover, placards have been found offering rewards 
and stating prices, for heads, hands, or prisoners. So the Jap- 
anese soldiers swore revenge, and they carried out their vow 
thoroughly in barbarous eastern style. All that can be said is 
that the Chinese committed nameless atrocities which the Japa- 
nese repaid a hundredfold. 

" It is unavoidable that innocent persons must be killed in 
war. I do not blame the Japanese for that alone ; Chinese sol- 
diers dress as peasants and retain their weapons, and attack 
when they can, under cover of disguise. It therefore becomes 
excusable to some extent to regard all Chinese as enemies, with 
or without uniform; in that the Japanese are plainly justified. 
But regarding them as enemies, it is not humanity to kill them ; 
they should be taken alive. I saw hundreds killed after being 
captured and tied. Perhaps that is not barbarity ; at any rate 
it is the truth. On the day of the battle, soldiers fresh from 
the excitement of a hard struggle cannot help being somewhat 
bloodthirsty, perhaps. At any rate their nerves are tense, their 
blood is up, they are violently excited. Not that it is right to 
be so, but it is usual. But the battle was on the 2 1st, and still 
on the 25th, after four nights' sleep, the slaughter was con- 
tinued. Some allowance must be made for the intense indigna- 
tion of the soldiers whose comrades had been mutilated by the 
Chinese. Indignation is perfectly justifiable ; the Japanese were 
quite right to feel incensed. But why should they express 
themselves in the very same barbarous manner ? Is it because 
they are also barbarous at heart like the Chinese ? Of course 
they say ' No.' Then they will have to prove it, for the fact 
remains that a dozen white men saw these Japanese commit 
these savageries for four clear days after the day of the fight." 

The story of the New York World's correspondent was as 
graphic and as shocking in its details, and included many of 



DISGKAOED BEFORE THE WORLD. 889 

the same sights which were related by Cowan. He said in 
part : " The story of the taking of Port Arthur will be one of 
the blackest pages in history. An easy victory over a Chinese 
mob, and the possession of one of the most powerful strong- 
holds in the world, was too great a strain upon the Japanese 
character, which relapsed in a few hours back to the state from 
which it awakened a generation ago. Almost the entire popu- 
lation found in Port Arthur have been massacred, and the work 
of butchering unarmed and unresisting inhabitants has continued 
day after day until the streets are choked with corpses. The 
march upon helpless Peking or a surrender of China to her foe 
is a small matter in its vital significance compared with this ap- 
palling crime against the nineteenth century, at a moment when 
Japan asks to be admitted as an equal into the family of civi- 
lized nations. The Japanese lost about fifty dead and 250 
wounded in carrying a fortress that would have cost them 
10,000 men had it been occupied by European or American 
troops, and yet the sense of uncontrolled power which let loose 
the savagery which had been pent up in the Japanese under the 
external forms of civilization, has proved the utter incapability 
of the nation to stand the one sure test. Japan stands dis- 
graced before the world. She has violated the Geneva con- 
vention, dishonored and profaned the Red Cross, and banished 
humanity and mercy from her councils. Victory and a new 
lust for dominion have set her mad. 

"All attempts to justify the massacre of the wretched people 
of Port Arthur and the mutilation of their bodies, are mere 
after-thoughts. The evidence is clear and overwhelming that it 
was the sudden breaking down of Japanese civilization under 
the stress of conscious power. The tremendous facts revealed 
by the war so far are, that there is practically no Chinese army in 
existence ; that Japan has been arraying herself in the outward 
garb of civilization, without having gone through the process of 
moral and intellectual development necessary to grasp the ideas 
upon which modern civilization is founded ; that Japan at heart 
is a barbarous nation, not yet to be trusted with sovereign 
power oyer the lives and property of civilized men. Up to the 



590 PORT ARTHUR. 

moment Fort Arthur was entered I can bear witness that both 
of her armies now in the field were chivalrous and generous to 
the enemy. There was not a stain on her flag. But it was all 
blind sentiment. The Japanese were playing with the Red 
Cross as with a new toy and their leaders were never weary of 
calling the attention of other nations to the spectacle." 

The variety of explanations offered to excuse the atrocities 
was considerable. It was reported from Port Arthur a (ew days 
after the charges had been made, that the capture of the place 
was indeed marked by regrettable excesses, but the offenders 
were not regular soldiers. It was said that the night after the 
capture of the stronghold, a number of coolies attached to the 
army as laborers came into the town from the camps. These 
men carried swords, in order to obviate the necessity of always 
having regular troops told off for their protection. Unfortunately 
they obtained access to some Chinese stores of liquor, and be- 
came intoxicated. While in this condition they were reminded 
of the atrocious cruelties committed by the Chinese upon de- 
fenseless Japanese prisoners, and became frenzied. All the 
coolies practically ran amuck, and no Chinaman whom they 
met was spared. It was declared that some of the coolies were 
at once arrested, and that Marshal Oyama was already in- 
vestigating the affair, when he received instructions from im- 
perial headquarters at Hiroshima to institute a rigorous inquiry. 

The barbarities practiced by the Chinese against the Japanese, 
which resulted in atrocious retaliation, were fully corroborated 
from many sources. A correspondent of the American Bible 
Society wrote thus from Shanghai : 

" The reported inhuman atrocities of the Chinese are fully con- 
firmed. They were guilty of barbarities too revolting to men- 
tion. A scouting party of Japanese, including an interpreter, 
were captured by the Chinese near Port Arthur just before the 
attack on the fortress. They were fastened to stakes by nails 
through their shoulders, burned alive, and then quartered and 
their ghastly remains stuck up on poles by the roadside. Some 
Japanese members of the Red Cross society were captured by 
the Chinese soldiers and flayed alive. During the attack on 



PEACE NEGOTIATIONS. 891 

Port Arthur the defenders used explosive bullets. Is it any 
wonder that the Japanese generals issued the order that no 
quarter should be shown ? The track of the retreating army has 
been marked by pillage, rapine, wanton destruction and outrage, 
so that the people welcome the Japanese." 

From a military point of view, the capture of Port Arthur by 
the Japanese was an event of the first importance, while its moral 
effect and its consequent influence upon the diplomatic situation 
was very great. It transferred from one side to the other, all 
the advantages of a fully equipped arsenal and dockyard, occupy- 
ing a commanding strategical position, and therefore modified 
all the conditions, naval as well as military, of the campaign. It 
made the defense more hopeless than ever, and extended the 
chain of Chinese disaster. 

While the war was virtually ended by the fall of Port Arthur, 
Wei-Hai-Wei was yet to be bombarded and surrendered, and 
minor engagements took place between the armies. After the 
complete rout of the armies and navies of China, Li Hung 
Chang, the Chinese viceroy, proceeded to Japan to negotiate a 
peace, and while there his life was attempted by a Japanese 
fanatic; whereupon, the Japanese Emperor commanded an 
armistice. 

This was followed by the treaty of Shimonoseki, which was 
agreed to in April, 1895. By its terms, China surrendered all 
claim to Corea, and ceded to Japan part of Manchuria. She 
agreed further, to pay a war idemnity of 200,000,000 taels. She 
consented, finally, to extend greatly the commercial privileges 
of foreigners, to permit the introduction of machinery, and the 
establishment of warehouses in the interior of the empire. But, 
at this juncture, Russia intervened, objecting strenuously to the 
cession of Manchuria. The Japanese, rather than enter upon a 
desperate struggle with so great a power, yielded to this 
" friendly demand," and the modified treaty was ratified early fa 
the month of May. This was followed at once, by a com- 
mercial treaty between China and Russia. 

55 




SANTIAGO. 

1898 

BY HENRY F. KEENAN. 

HE public mind — that is, the mind of the 
people of the United States, was in much 
agitation during the early summer of 1898, 
over the somewhat heedless landing of a 
battalion of marines on the Southern coast of 
Cuba, an expedition ostensibly to prepare the 
way for the seizure of the city and harbor of 
Santiago, where the fleet of the Spanish ad- 
miral, Cervera, had found shelter. The nar- 
rative of the landing of the marines, their strangely inhuman 
exposure to ambuscaded guerillas, on a densely wooded plateau, 
was received by the country with something of the incredulous 
anger that followed the massacre of Balls' Bluff, while the re- 
bellion was in its first stages. It seemed an augury of fatally 
feeble council at headquarters, and the impugned strategists in 
Washington were compelled to prepare a diversion. The army 
must do something, or the country would revolt from the 
agencies in control. 

But there were reasons of a military character, that forbade an 
attack upon the Cuban capital before the fever season had come 
to an end. Santiago was less liable to the ravages of the plague, 
and it was suddenly determined to despatch the only force 
available for active operations, to that point, and attempt the re- 
duction of the city. 

The Fifth Army Corps under Major-General William R. 
Shafter, sailed from Tampa on June 14th. The tawny coasts, 
the dreary stretches of sand, the exotic foliage of Southern 
(892) 




MAJOR-GENERAL WILLIAM R. SHAFTER. 



THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 895 

Florida, had been for weeks as well known to the eager kinsmen 
of the assembled soldiers, as the White House at Washington or 
Grant's tomb at Riverside Park. The people, to the uttermost 
ends of the republic, knew from day to day, the numbers, con- 
dition and status of the expedition. Depressing hints of an in- 
adequate commissariat and an ineffective medical train had 
inkled northward, and lent new vigor to the Red Cross activities. 
But the note that struck loudest and bore most encouragingly 
upon the country was, the feeling of the ranks for action. They 
panted for war, now that they had outgrown the novelty of its 
Sus and pageantry. 

:ong the 16,000 men that comprised Shaffer's army, was a 

regiment which became the joy of the paragraphers and the 
pundits of the press. Theodore Roosevelt, a rich, young New 
Yorker, who had figured frequently as a reformer in the insur- 
rections of New York City politics during the last decade, re- 
signed the responsible place of assistant secretary of the navy, 
to become a subaltern in a regiment designed to do and dare. 
Under the characteristic designation of the " Rough Riders," 
Roosevelt almost in a day, gathered the most desperate groups 
of the republic's adventurers. The recruits came from the 
scholastic seclusion of Harvard, from the wild life of the plains, 
from the gilded clubs of the metropolis, the Capauan splendors 
of millionaire palaces. The cowboy and the dude, the pioneer 
and the dilettante jostled each other in the ranks that were 
formed almost in a day. The gathering of this unique organiza- 
tion, the roster of its bizarre personalities, was read from day to 
day, with delight and laughter. The drilling and disciplining of 
the mass, the Crcesan gifts of the privates to the regiment, the 
readiness of the aristocratic contingent to fall into the squalid 
details of camp life, made a page of piquant interest for the 
whole country. 

Roosevelt, himself, was the most interesting figure ; a man of 
letters, eager, impulsive, absorbed in everything he undertook, 
he was indulgently admired by even those who distrusted his 
sagacity or opposed his ideals. 

In his new endeavor, Roosevelt brought the same irrestrain- 



896 SANTIAGO. 

able energy to the task that had given him eminence in other 
enterprises. He mastered the rubric of the tactics and set to 
work to drill his motley legion with the assiduous delight of a 
Prussian martinet. In the long journey from the regiment's 
rendezvous, at San Antonio, Texas, to Tampa, the Rough Riders 
were a magnet to the inhabitants from far and near. The farm- 
ers and villagers who had read for years of the " 400 " of New 
York, flocked to the railway, to catch a glimpse of the scions 
of these mysterious potencies, transformed into private soldiers 
of the republic. The famous athletes, the notorious cowboys, 
the equivocal of mining camps and Buffalo Bill shows, were no 
less embodiments of wonder to the country through which the 
squadrons passed. In every city they were feted, caressed, 
glorified. But for that matter, no body of men bearing the in- 
signia of the republic were neglected, as the trains bearing 
them, dragged an uncertain course to the decisive point of em- 
barkation. We shall see them in the strain and storm of cruel 
trial, and find that the touch of one hand, impressed some of the 
rare qualities, that make steadfast troops — but even in the al- 
most bouffe heroism, we shall likewise see that soldiers are not 
made, officers are not created by mere proclamations. 

The eager troops had been sweltering and repining on the 
transports seven days, when the start was definitely made. 
Every man of the cramped mass knew the fleet by sight : every 
man invented a pastime to lull the hours and cheat disease of 
its prey. But within a day of embarkation, an army with ban- 
ners could not have been more terrible to the imprisoned host 
than the decks and deeps of the vessels. Life at sea is trying 
at best; language fails to describe its torments, when men are 
packed together, leaving barely space to stretch out in compact 
lines on every superficial foot of deck and cabin. But it was of 
excellent augury for the metal of the crusaders, that Yankee- 
like, they made these discomforts subjects for joke, the depriva- 
tions, hilarious sarcasms. Yet, historically, this continent had 
never witnessed a spectacle so imposing as the sweep of this 
armada from the Florida sand dunes. Even the facile pens of 
the literary corps, could not, like the Egyptian wizard, repro- 



THE EYE OF THE ARMADA. 897 

duce from a well of ink, the majestic panorama of the sea pag- 
eant, the mile on mile of ships brilliant in color, animated by 
eager forms, moving in rhythmic unision over the opaline 
waters, through the endless expanse of tranquil sea. The head 
of the fleet faded in the purple mists of the horizon, while the 
rear was emerging from the squalors of Tampa. As a chain is 
only as strong as its weakest link, a fleet of transports is only as 
swift as its slowest craft ; hence the journey Cubaward never 
exceeded seven miles an hour. Hearts beat high as the majes- 
tic line moved in the solemnity of the sea, straight southward. 
Night fell and the pageant was eclipsed. Lights were forbid- 
den. Under the luminous radiance of the tropic stars, the won- 
drous beauty of the sea was still visible ; the eager thousands 
hung over the rails to note what came to pass. The borealis 
play of lightning that illuminates the southern skies added to 
the enchanting mystery of the scene. The least sentimental 
felt the glow of rapture the poets profess, over beauty so per- 
fect, so whimsically in contrast with the mission of the spectres 
speeding over the soft summer sea. 

It required twenty-four hours to get the tail end of the fleet 
on the high seas, that is far beyond the Florida Keys, while the 
head was skirting Cuban waters. Never had this generation 
beheld a spectacle so imposing ; even the armaments, though 
vast during the Civil War, Butler's, Banks' and Burnsides' did 
not number so many vessels nor so many troops, in a single ex- 
pedition, for besides the forty or more vessels of transports, 
there was a squadron of war ships to guard against the possi- 
bility of attack by the enemy. The battleship Indiana, steamed 
far in advance, the eye of the armada. It was the twentieth — 
the sixth day from the setting out at Tampa, that the ship-worn 
thousands saw with wonder and relief, the purple horizon above 
the waters of Santiago. Every man knew then the secret, so 
resolutely maintained during the month of waiting and the 
week of sailing. To the Spaniards, neither the sailing of the 
fleet, its direction nor number, even its probable destination, 
were a mystery. For as the straggling line hugged the coast, 
signal after signal went up from the headlands, and knowing 



898 SANTIAGO. 

the capacities of the transports, the coming force could be esti- 
mated to a man. Even the probable objective must have been 
divined, when the head of the column passed the eastern capes 
and swung westward toward Guantanamo and Sampson's sen- 
tries before Santiago. The thousands were worn with confine- 
ment ; land never uprose more hospitably inviting than the 
serrated terraces that spread under the eager eyes of impatient 
Ihrongs. Death or glory, or both, lurked in the mysterious 
deeps beyond, but at least the limbs would be free ; the hateful 
duress of the ship, the torturing sounds of the machinery, the 
deathly smells would be gone. 

Baiquiri, the spot chosen for disembarkation, is a picture 
of nature in its most striking conformation of mountain, sky 
and water. The hamlet lurks furtively at the base of a moun- 
tain spur, that seems to rise sheer 1,200 feet in the air. 
This immense mountain wall is indented irregularly, making 
room for little bights, accessible to small craft. Streams, when 
there is no rain, glide in crystal purity through the wondrous 
herbage. Plateau and plain intermingle in quick succession, as 
the land is penetrated inward and upward. To the seaworn 
soldiers the whole range of valleys and precipice, cliff and pla- 
teau, took on the reality of Robinson Crusoe's isle ; for among 
the glistening palms and giant foliage, could be seen cocoanuts, 
mangoes and other delights of the parched stomach. For 
twelve hours Shafter's legions were boys on a picnic, lost in the 
wonder and delight of the embodied reality of lifelong dreams. 
But the haven of delight was not easily attained ; the sea leap- 
ing and gamboling on the rocky ledges, sent up veils and vol- 
leys of spray, that drenched the lighters, the wading ranks, the 
over-eager thousands. Nor was the picture devoid of wonder, 
even to eyes accustomed to military pageantry. 

The army was debarked with every evidence of improvised 
material. By the favoring chance of clear weather at the very 
time storms were the rule, the soldiers were carried through the 
surf to the shore in front of a hamlet variously called Baiquiri 
and Daiquiri. No intimation had been given of the point 
selected for the landing of the army, and there was a fever of 



LANDING THE ARMY. 899 

wild conjecture until Cervera's presence in Santiago bay sug- 
gested the value of that town for a military enterprise. The 
point selected, offered many advantages for the base of an army 
of invasion bent on a prize so tempting as the fleet of Cervera 
and the army of occupation. Furthermore, the town had the 
very appreciable advantage of cable communication with the 
continent, for the French line had its terminus there. But there 
the invitation ended — indeed nothing could well be more unin- 
viting for the display of grand tactics or Napoleonic strategy, 
than the hideous sixteen miles of nature at its wildest, between 
Siboney and Santiago. The land rises sheer from the sea, and 
buttresses two colossal ridges of the mountain plateaux, extend- 
ing all along the coast, save where broken by spectral streams 
or yawning chasms. To make the roads passable for artillery, 
the whole army would be forced to turn into pioneer corps. 
Sherman's corduroying campaign in the Carolinas seemed an 
ordinary task compared to that confronting the men who were 
anxious only to fight, according to the daily asseveration of the 
newspaper Xenophons ! 

While the mass was gathering itself together gaily and con- 
fidently, the two squadrons of the Rough Riders that accom- 
panied the expedition, set out adventurously in the direction of 
the enemy and Santiago. There seems to have been no 
thought of the rudimentary operations of invasion — a careful 
reconnoissance of the country the army must pass over. There 
were bands of Cubans at the service of the general staff — men 
who presumably knew the routes or the surfaces capable of 
being made available for forward movements. But until a 
heavy cost had been exacted, their knowledge was not utilized. 
The Rough Riders, brave to temerity, took no precaution to 
scour the thickets either immediately in front, in the path 
they were following, or the lateral spaces on either hand. Even 
a less enterprising foe than the Spaniard would have been in- 
spired to sanguinary surprises by such unqualifiable laxity. 

Pushing gaily through the dense growth of chapparal — a 
hedge fashioned by nature more obstructive than the chevaux 
de /rise of the military engineer, the thin column was beset 



900 SANTIAGO. 

when out of reach of support, by bands of invisible ambuscaders. 
The volleys crackling from dense curtains of green, where no 
smoke gave a clue to the point of danger, forced the only tac- 
tics in such a case — a futile charge. The Rough Riders proved 
that they were of the stuff fine soldiers are made of. They did 
not break in a panic, as better disciplined soldiers have done 
when caught at the same disadvantage. The scion of a family 
of distinction was one of the first victims. When the news 
reached New York, tenfold importance was given the skirmish. 
That the elect of all the troops, the Rough Riders, should have 
been victims of inconsiderate haste in moving, seemed doubly 
derelict to the million who were regarding the war as an opera 
box spectacle. 

But it must be said for the men of the regiment engaged, 
they never took themselves so seriously. The athletes and 
hunters, the cowboys and social amphytrions enlisted, just as 
they would have joined a polo club or a " Wild West" hunt, or 
any opportunity for manly adventure. They accepted readily 
the direful monotony and half menial camp duties, incident to 
soldiering, with good-natured tolerance, but they seemed to 
think that when battle was in prospect, they were free to seek 
it wherever it was to be found. Hence they met the bloody 
reprisal with buoyant equanimity. Colonels Wood and Roose- 
velt discovered the qualities, admiring friends had preconceded 
them. They faced the bullets from the vernal palisades, as if 
that particular form of self-sacrifice had been their daily habit. 
But the country, while deliriously proud of the men, was not 
disposed to look kindly upon the conditions that brought about 
the ordeal of the favorites, particularly as nothing tangible 
seemed gained. Again the shriek of " mutilation " was raised 
and the fine flower of society demanded reprisal. A strict ex- 
amination revealed that science and nature were the malefactors. 
It was the inhuman Mauser bullet that made the dead unrecog- 
nizable, or made the gashes seem the furious slashes of insensate 
hate. But there was a still ghastlier agency in disfiguring the 
dead — even the wounded — an agency that no care could prevent 
or waylay, no prescience turn aside. 



INVISIBLE AMBUSCADES. 901 

Under the glistening chapparal, among the razor edged wall 
of the cactus, in the dark lush foliage, lurks and preys a malevo- 
lent little monster called the " land crab." The odor of human 
blood electrifies the scaly members of this obscene marauder. 
No sooner had the Mauser completed its maiming work, than 
the land crab, " devil's claw " the natives call it, claws its way, 
with incredible velocity, to the prostrate body. In a flash its 
wiry tentacles are pinching out particles of flesh from the ex- 
posed places. These in every case were the mutilators of the 
dead — Spanish as well as Yankee. Nor was the branding sum- 
mer sun a less merciless agent of torture. It fell in festering 
heat upon the unacclimated skin of the invader ; it parched his 
flesh, it blurred his aching eyes and blinded him, as he groped 
feverishly in the assassin thickets ; for assassin they were. The 
mere touch of the flesh upon certain cacti, the inhaling of certain 
blooms, stung the flesh, poisoned the blood and disturbed the 
action of the cerebral system. In the foetid gloom of the thicket, 
squirmed and hissed a vipery brood of uncanny and monstrous 
things, their eyes glowing in spots, like a firmament of tiny 
stars, and even where these repulsive and loathly things were 
not present, the hint of them insidiously spread by the Cubans, 
filled the mind of the exploring soldiery with that terror of the 
unseen to which the ordeal of the battle is mere football or polo. 

In the end, when the column had endured such agonies — the 
mind shrinks from further relating — when a score or more had 
been slain, the point was made secure by a strong earthwork 
circumvallating the plateau. Spasmodic attacks and venomous 
defense alternated, until the whole force Shaffer had at his dis- 
posal reached the topmost height, forming a vast natural bul- 
wark about the lower plateau — upon which the city of Santiago 
spreads in a confused net work of alleys to the water's edge. 
The Spaniards always under cover, had little to fear from the 
most frenzied rushes of our soldiers, and frenzied is really the 
only term to qualify the strange onset that followed the fitful 
arrival of the divisions concentrated about the beleaguered city. 

In all warfare where an army attacks, the first work is the 
planting of guns to concentrate a destructive fire on the point 



902 SANTIAGO. 

chosen for assault by the line. As has been seen, the work 
from the base of operations at Siboney was impracticable, mili- 
tary men said, for the infantry. The hauling of artillery, capa- 
ble of breaking the Spanish defenses, implied days at least of 
very hard road-making by every available man in the army. In 
this dilemma the Federal commander thought that the Cubans, 
who were not exactly distinguished as soldiers, could be made 
available as pioneers — sappers and miners, as the road-makers 
are called. But the lofty pride of the " patriots " refused all 
such service. They were willing to march and fire, when the 
troops of the republic were in sufficient force to assure them 
from a charge by the enemy ; they were ready likewise to hover 
where death mowed down the Spaniards, ply the machete on 
the wounded, disfigure the dead and despoil all — but they could 
not be brought to the work of clearing the roads or aiding the 
success of the expedition. 

As in the Civil War, so in this brief promenade in Cuba. 
The Yankee soldier proved himself as full of ingenuity in over- 
coming natural obstacles as he has always shown himself equal 
to the deadliest dangers. The roads were made passable, the 
bulk of the army was within striking distance within a week of 
the debarkation. Then the vivacity of the soldiers either an- 
ticipated orders or exaggerated them, a series of desperately 
bloody combats went on at every point of impact with the 
enemy. These were signalized by an almost romantic disre- 
gard of death, on the part of the soldiers, and an almost equal 
absence of intelligent directions on the part of the directing 
commander. The men charged up artfully defended acclivities, 
swarmed over barbed wire obstructions, through stone walls, 
through dykes and over earthworks — bent only on pushing 
forward — no matter how invincibly defended. 

Sergeant Oursley of the Third Regulars, unconscious that he 
was adding to the resources of scientific narrative, charged his 
mind with this moving picture of the advance : 

" On the morning of June 24th the Rough Riders set out to 
take up a position in advance of the others, and in fact, ventured 
far out beyond the skirmish line. As a matter of fact, those 



EQUANIMITY OF THE TROOPS. 903 

fellows, brave and fearless as they are, and deserving of great 
praise and credit, actually conceived the idea they could 
take Santiago, themselves, and then return and tell the rest of 
the army how it was done ! They were overdaring and ad- 
vanced farther ahead than they were ordered to go. It was 
about seven o'clock in the morning when the two forward troops 
were moving slowly ahead, that they were suddenly fired at from 
one of the outer trenches, hidden from view by the underbrush, 
where the enemy were concealed. They were taken by surprise, 
but stood their ground uncommonly well, although their relief 
was fully a quarter of a mile in the rear, and their support 
still further behind. Colonel Wood and Lieutenant-Colonel 
Roosevelt went at once to the front and were in the thick- 
est of the fight. It is little less than a miracle that either 
escaped with his life. Roosevelt, when the first volley was 
fired, quickly dropped his sword and side arms, and picking 
up a rifle stood by the boys and fired shot after shot with 
them as long as the skirmish lasted. He is idolized by his 
men, and his daring on that day still further endeared him to 
them." 

Millions followed with an interest tinged with anguish, the 
exasperatingly inconsequent reports of the landing of the troops : 
the joyance and even jocundities of the men, as they met the 
needs of an entirely untried undertaking. It was indeed a time 
of cheers and laughter, as the 16,000 scrambled from the 
prisons the ships had become, and made for the jocund shore 
in the shallops provided for the work. That there was any 
serious ordeal before them never seemed to strike the men. 
With the curious docility of the soldiery of a republic, they in- 
vested the commanders with prescience and capacity to meet all 
that might be humanly prepared against them. Even the lack 
of the commissariat, irksomely evident so soon as the masses 
were landed, did not suggest grumbling. In the exhilaration of 
the novel, it was rather jocose raillery than the ill-nature that 
precedes gloom and demoralization. The circumscribed beach 
and limited space of Baiquiri, were soon overcrowded and then 
the legions began to spread out— taking the form of an advance 



904 SANTIAGO. 

— unpremeditated in the plan of battle. Hence it came to pass 
that skirmishes, more or less sanguinary, were fought entirely 
outside the calculation of the commander. But for that matter, 
there was no need for elaborate strategy. The Spaniards had 
simplified the campaign by relinquishing the landing, by retreat 
from the imposing bulwark nature provided — the sixteen miles 
of impenetrable jungle and toilsome bridle paths, leading from 
the sea hamlets to the city of Santiago. 

The various detachments marched toward Santiago apparently 
indifferent to any of the safeguards, always redoubled as the re- 
sistence of the enemy becomes weaker — for then there is good 
reason to suspect. It was due to Spanish negligence, rather 
than to the prevoyance of the commanders of the invading 
column, that every hillside was not littered with our dead. And 
the army soon had proof of this : not only in the murderous 
surprise of the handful of Rough Riders, but in the deadly 
efficacy of the primitive blockhouses buttressing rude intrench- 
ments and barbed wire barricades, holding the charging columns 
suspended in the onrush, while perishing under the withering 
flight of Mauser bullets. From the moment the columns set out 
from the sea, such fighting as went on was whimsically like the 
result of individual enterprise, or as the correspondents ironically 
expressed it " squad fights." That is, bodies of men, pushing 
out adventurously and meeting opposition, instead of making 
back for the main body, as all well organized campaigning ex- 
acts, stood their ground and held it until other squads in curiosity 
or a spirit of adventure joined them ! This was brave, even bril | 
liant, but it was in no sense war. A foeman of the least address 
or resolution would have cut off every vestige of these sporadic 
forces. Indeed, the contrast between the determined resolution 
of the Spaniards, when in line, and their incomprehensible lag- 
gardness when every chance coveted by an inferior force was 
heedlessly abandoned to them, would argue that the defence on 
General Linares' part was purely perfunctory. 

During the Civil War — to go no farther, we saw innumerable 
instances of forces vastly inferior to Linares', contesting a Federal 
advance inch by inch and finally repulsing it in disaster. In the 



THE REGULARS. 905 

Red River expedition in 1864, General Banks undertook to con- 
quer Shreveport and Central Texas, by a movement not unlike 
Shafter's. His advance was marked by nearly the same 
grotesque disdain of military axioms. He was made to pay the 
penalty by a defeat, that under other circumstances would have 
imperilled the whole campaign. But the Spaniards, having re- 
linquished the striking advantage the Morro would have given 
them in a defence of the coast line, merely "annoyed" the ad- 
vance over the hills. It was their unsystematic plan and 
desultory execution which betrayed Shafter into the final series 
of what for a time looked like bloody repulse, at San Juan and 
El Caney. Indeed — it is no exaggeration, no undue pride in 
our incomparable Regulars, that impels the assertion, that had 
it not been for the inexpugnable resolution of the compact mass 
of Regular soldiery, entrusted with the mission, Shafter's move- 
ment would have ended as Banks' ended. From the memorable 
exploits of Napoleon's invincible phalanxes in the first Italian 
campaign to the most stirring of their prodigies at Ulm and 
Eckmuhl, soldiery in action never surpassed the heroic resolu- 
tion, evinced by General Lawton's, Chaffee's and Kent's bat- 
talions. They stood in line of battle, when standing meant in- 
cessant exposure — swift, sure hurt ; they maintained the perilous 
line, taken when each Spaniard in front by virtue of arms and 
shelter equalled ten of the invaders. They could not be moved 
by the maelstrom of death each discharge of the murderous 
Mausers inflicted ; they were as impassive in the red glare of 
the perfectly directed volleys, as in the breathing space afforded 
by the trenches ; they stood calm, majestic, agonizing ; they 
died and made no outcry ; they charged and never wavered in 
the alignments, they lay prone in the hideous trenches and 
never for an instant could it be detected that they were not as 
terribly effective thus spread out, as in the rush of the charge or 
the sinister line of battle. 

Indeed, the Regular was to the land combat, what the impos- 
ing Texas, Iowa, or Indiana, were to the fleets — a mechanism so 
perfect that nothing but complete destruction could impair that 
prodigious force. Against this indomitable mass, the Spanish 



906 SANTIAGO. 

impetuously spent themselves, in the three days of determined 
fight which brought the campaign to an end. 

Once the small army was distributed for its work, the plan of 
campaign, simple enough from the disposition of the Spanish 
leader's limitations, went on with definite finality. Each version 
of the advance differed, according to the relations and partialities 
of the recording scribe. Each of these active observers saw 
with an eye trained to effect. The campaign in front of Sevas- 
topol evoked no more diversity of unbridled eulogy or acrimo- 
nious commentary. General Shafter was boded forth alternately * 
as cowering in his tent far in the rear, ignoring all that was going 
on ; bewildering the war junta in Washington by clamor for re- 
inforcements, or stolidly forcing forward his inadequate forces to 
gain the cheap renown of a Fourth of July conquest. This 
diversity of tone extended to the uttermost detail of organiza- 
tion. It was clamorously set forth that the provision for the 
nourishment of the harassed ranks was derisory ; that within an 
hour of the fleets and transports, within twenty-four hours' sail 
of New York, the sweltering, the maimed and the halt were on 
half rations. And in the dire hour of death, when the Mauser 
was mowing down the onrushing and misled ranks, there were 
no provisions for the wounded ; no surgeons, no tents, no medi- 
cine, in anything like reasonable proportions. One surgeon to 
a regiment was the rule during the carnage at San Juan and 
El Caney. Ten minutes to an operation, the amputation of a 
limb, or even the more serious attempts that surgeons now un- 
dertake in the very crisis of battle, was the allotted space. 
Surgeons wrought among the mangled, and fell fainting in the 
pestilential air; the wounded ranged in helpless prostration, like 
cattle in a slaughter pen, waiting their turns, from early morning 
until the merciful darkness fell with the dewy coolness of the 
tropic clime. 

These painful disclosures were made all over the battlefield, 
and so circumstantially corroborated, that the charge cannot be 
disputed. Even in the comparatively facile affair of removing 
the wounded who reached the sea, the lugubrious tale of mingled 
inefficiency and peculation found more sinister material; the 




MAJOK-GENKKAL II. VV. LAWTON, 



MAJOR-GENEHAL ADNA R CHAFFEE. 




F.RIO.-GENERAL LEONARD WOOD. COLONEL THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 

PROMINENT OFFICERS IN THE SANTIAGO CAMPAIGN. 



LINARES IN A TRAP. 909 

transports allotted the wounded were unfit for them. The able 
bodied and influential were awarded the comfortable quarters, 
while the mutilated and helpless fared as they could. 

Held by the arms of the sea as in a trap, General Linares, the 
Spanish commander of the Santiago district, from the first, was 
under no illusion as to his fate. He had no food, little ammu- 
nition, and few or none of the military appliances essential to 
the defence of the vital points which, if adequately armed in 
time, might have made the capture of Santiago quite as formida- 
ble an undertaking as Havana was generally admitted to be. 
It is, however, a misuse of the term, as ordinarily understood in 
military parlance, to speak of the sporadic combats and the be- 
wildered movements as an advance or a siege. Indeed, there 
was not an hour from the landing of Shafter's 16,000, until the 
moment the wretched Toral handed over his cartel, that a sanely 
led diversion to our flank or rear, would not have withered the 
army as a strong sunshine on new snow. 

Not that the march was too fast, nor the seizure of the various 
points misjudged, but that isolated regiments were thrown for- 
ward beyond available touch with their supports ; above all be- 
cause this extraordinary army adventured itself far beyond the 
guns of the fleet, without a single piece of artillery to defend 
itself, in the event of a strong attack on any given point. In 
war at least, if not in morals, the end justifies the means. It 
may be that General Shafter knowing from secret sources the 
exhausted, supine and unfit condition of his enemy, felt that the 
ordinary precautions of war were a waste of time. Nothing 
else can explain the thrusting of his grotesquely inadequate 
forces beyond the range of instant reinforcements. But what 
seemed more inexplicable than all this happy-go-lucky improvi- 
dence, was the persistent disregard of that most vital of all ele- 
ments to a fighting column, victualling and shelter. 

Yet the intrepid bands who found themselves in possession of 
the advanced line, and for days none of them knew how, fell in 
the sticky morasses and mountain mud, bent under dripping 
branches, or packed themselves together for vital warmth, with 
not even the sustenance of a hardtack. Nor is it without sig- 



910 SANTIAGO. 

nification, to keep in mind that none of the prerequisite engi- 
neering details obligatory upon the armies marching in an ene- 
my's country, seem to have been thought of. The men who 
were launched out under the shower of Mauser bullets were like- 
wise the builders of bridge and road, of abattis, breastwork and 
trench. 

Apparently the guiding mind of the United States army was 
apprehensive that the Spanish commander would, on the mere 
apparition of the Tampa army, sacrifice the city and carry his 
garrison to swell the forces of the Captain-General northwest- 
ward. Hence, having secured the isolated advanced post of 
Siboney, he spread a thin line to the northwestward in order 
to shut the beleaguered garrison in, or to at least make it impos- 
sible for any considerable number to march out before the be- 
siegers could make themselves felt in sufficient force to check 
the exodus. 

It was these columns which brought on the fitful and mo- 
mentarily fierce combats of San Juan Hill and El Caney. Our 
thin line on attaining within five miles of Santiago, on the north- 
west and a proportionate distance from the arm of the sea, which 
forms the bay southward to Aguadores, could see no Spanish 
line, could discern no troops, but for an instant felt the sting of 
the Mausers, and at certain points, the deadly explosions of 
artillery. It was the very intelligence of our soldiery that made 
the situation difficult. For every man could see, even though 
devoid of military training, that with anything like equal force, 
the defenders, on such terrain, could hold ten times, yes, a 
hundred times their own numbers at bay. 

With characteristic nonchalance too, the majority of the regi- 
ments decided their own plan of operations ; fixed the date of 
assault and surrender for the republic's birthday, the fourth of 
July ! No official mandate had gone out to that effect, but it is 
perfectly obvious from the strenuous onrush of isolated regi- 
ments and brigades, that each commander secretly determined 
to signalize his force by a triumph on Independence Day. 
It is not unlikely that General Shafter had this whimsically 
laudable purpose in his own mind. It is the only admissible 



THE FLOWER OF THE ARMY. 913 

conjecture of what would otherwise have been a criminal ad- 
venture. 

But ill as the Spaniards were prepared, and desultory as were 
their onsets, it was seen that the shrewdly planted lines of block- 
houses and the murderous entanglements of barbed wire mask- 
ing ditches and other not badly conceived impediments, forced 
a recourse to the orderly appliances of siege operations. The 
heavy guns capable of knocking down blockhouses and demol- 
ishing the defences, could alone be depended upon to make the 
advance of soldiery possible without slaughter, criminally out 
of proportion with the end to be achieved. It was fully four 
days after the heads of columns, which may be called squadrons 
of discovery, reached the decisive points of defence, that a few 
straggling guns were heard near the strong point of El Caney 
and the hill of San Juan. The flower of the army — its strong 
rock of defence, in fact — seven regiments of Regulars, reached 
the crucial point on the extreme right, the Malakoff as one 
might call it, in a small way, of the situation, after an all-night 
march, foodless but unimpairably ready. It tells most eloquently 
the difficulties of the woodland march, the mountain impasses, 
the roaring streams, the impenetrable paths, that a large per- 
centage of these men, who had battled the Indians in the 
West, dropped exhausted in their tracks and were reported for 
twenty-four hours at least, as stragglers. Nor is it without its 
significance that the line when rushed into order for battle, was 
found so mixed up, that stragglers from one regiment were 
found in bewildered groups searching for some place to fight, 
unable to find their own commands. As the outcome proved, 
General Shafter's objective fulfilled the first maxim of sound 
military tactics ; to meet and beat the enemy wherever his loss 
would be greatest, and the consequences most decisive to the 
assailant. 

Before the armies quit their camps in the Union, an elaborate 
series of instructions had been given each soldier, providing for 
his welfare in the new conditions he was about to face. First of 
these was, that no water was to be used without boiling. And 
in keeping with other shortcomings, brought to light by the 



914 SANTIAGO. 

very first manoeuver, it was found that the soldier's kit was un- 
provided with the means of heating, even had the conditions 
been favorable. Luck, however, was the god ruling the planet 
of our armies, as well as our navies. For almost every road of 
the mountain-side was broken by rivulets of clear pellucid water, 
refreshing as nectar to the sweltering legions as they toiled pain- 
fully upward and onward. 

It was recommended to the legions too, that they should 
never sleep upon the ground, and this admonition soon became 
the derisive byword of the maltreated ranks, stretched for miles 
on the soaking grass or in the muddy tracks of the column it- 
self, as it advanced. It is very doubtful whether a single man 
in the expedition was wholly dry at any time from the moment 
the march began, until the gates of Santiago opened in sur- 
render. 

The Cuban contingent, while unprovided with clothing and 
destitute of arms, never failed to have its hammock, and while 
the men who did the fighting burrowed in the mud and under 
the dripping foliage, the Cubans were at ease, swinging from 
the trees in aerial beds. Some of the complaints sounded with 
shrillness by the correspondents, were indicative of the naive 
ignorance of the men that made them, and the soldiery who 
endured them. It was held a great hardship that there should 
be nothing to eat but " hard tack " and salt meat. Yet during 
the Civil War, the two million and more of men who fought 
between 1861 and 1865, never dreamed of anything better, save 
when in camp and far from the battlefield. The strategists of the 
campaign, however, had overlooked the necessity of having this 
simple food in abundance, and within reach, for, as there were 
no roads, no vehicles were at hand to accumulate stores at such 
points as the heads of columns were directed to. 

General Young was despatched from the base at Baiquiri first. 
He was to have had a strong corps, but the precipitancy of his 
march and the impassibility of the roads forced him to do the 
brunt of the fighting with the brigade of Regulars, the Rough 
Riders and the Second Massachusetts. This march to the 
north and east of Santiago was determined upon, in order to 



GENERAL YOUNG 'S ADVANCE. 915 

separate General Linares' army from an auxiliary force of 7,000 
at Guantanamo — to the eastward. It also provided for an ultimate 
enfolding of the north and west debouches from the beleaguered 
city, as well as the prevention of reinforcements threatened 
from places to the north and west. The cavalry had no horses, 
nor could they use them if they had ; the officers of all ranks 
were likewise dismounted during the earlier stages of the 
march. But it is a misuse of words to call the advancing 
movement a march. The troops were really more in the pre- 
dicament of Alpine climbers, or bushmen compelled to slash 
their way through the impenetrable wall of obstinate growth 
spreading out of gulch sides and rock-ribbed juttings, where na- 
ture had played her wildest volcanic pranks at some unknown 
seismic epoch. 

" Altares," is the name given by the Cubans to the corrugated 
fretwork of ridges that break up the country into territory 
adapted more for the passage of birds of the air, than man or 
beast. While not precisely like the famous lava bed lands on 
which General Canby fought thirty years ago, in Oregon, the 
veterans among the Regulars, who made the journey from 
Siboney to the gates of Santiago, saw a painful resemblance. 
Now when the land itself uprose in forbidding obstinacy, the 
Spaniards began the defence which they declined at the sea- 
shore. That the invaders made headway, is the extraordinary 
part of this extraordinary campaign ; for in answering the well- 
studied volleys from unseen sources, our toiling masses were 
forced to take aim at an angle of almost forty-five degrees, al- 
most vertically in the air. But quite as trying as this, in fact 
immeasurably more arduous to limb and brain, was the labor of 
dragging the body up what was in effect sheer acclivity, in 
many parts of the advance. More depressing even than the 
implacable resistance of earth and wood, there was no sign 
either by traveled wood paths or cursory openings, that the im- 
mense mountainous circumvallation ended anywhere. It shut 
in the horizon completely ; the most vivid fancy could conceive 
no city in the abysmal deeps of this rugged nature. But the 
maps, liberally supplied the ranks, showed El Caney, San Juan 



916 SANTIAGO. 

and other inhabited hamlets, at points of vantage for the assault 
upon Santiago, as well as excellent bulwarks for a capable line 
of defence. 

The Rough Riders debouched through the density of the wood 
upon what was called the " hog back " and on reaching that 
fateful plateau, seared with fissures and bristling with chapparal, 
found themselves enfiladed by an unseen enemy. The hilarious 
Riders, on foot, were caracoling through the thorny way, en- 
livening the solemn stillness of the woods by the jocosities that 
seem part of the exuberance of our diversely mixed blood, 
during hours of danger. Whether things were going well or 
ill, whether the rations were scant or abundant, you might hear 
from end to end of the line, mingled with more sinister excla- 
mations, the grotesque humors and fanciful slang, that ex- 
presses the joviality of good nature, good humor and that semi- 
serious levity, which it is so difficult for other peoples to com- 
prehend. For a breathless half-hour, death was the chorus to 
the Rough Riders' jokes. A score of the light-hearted merry- 
makers was stretched quivering or silent on the palpitating 
sward, for the heat was so intense that the very earth seemed 
to rise and fall as it exhaled the hot, pungent odors of the dank, 
decaying vegetation. It was here, and at this time, that young 
Hamilton Fish fell ; that the journalist Marshall intrepidly ven- 
turing to " get all the news," reeled to the earth fairly riddled 
with Mauser balls. But though the first reports represented 
this episode as something of an unauthorized escapade on the 
part of the Riders, it was really part of General Young's scheme 
to seize the outlying points, commanding the Santiago entrench- 
ments. 

By a road somewhat easier than that which fell to the Roose- 
velt companies, General Young reached a point parallel, and 
forced the enemy to rush backward to the blockhouses of 
Sevilla. These were perched far above the " hog back " ; to at- 
tain them the Regulars, patient as pack horses, were forced to 
use hands, and in some cases men were seen holding overhang- 
ing branches in their teeth, to steady themselves for an upward 
lunge. The observant army officers set it down that the climb 



TENANTLESS HOMES OF EASE. 917 

was never at less an angle of thirty degrees, and often forty. 
But when death had taken its tale ; when the herculean climb 
had ended, a paradisiac vision rewarded the astonished column. 
Spreading far away on every hand, far as the enraptured eyes 
could follow, on the vast plateau, the villas, haciendas, home- 
steads, of the Santiago's well-to-do, glimmered and glistened 
like friendly monitors. But the promises to the hope were 
broken to the heart, for the gay walls and enchanting gardens 
were broken and in ruins ; wild plants, of inconceivably luxuri- 
ant growth, covered paths, once symmetrical and solacing ; walls 
once gay with the hues the natives love to employ in decoration, 
were mere mosques of paved elegance. For years the marau- 
ders of the " patriot " army had made these homes of ease and 
leisure, tenantless. The lizard and the wild fowl perched where 
music and laughter once resounded. The cost of this vision, 
the conquest of the plateau was heavy, the action is known as 
the battle of La Guasimas, June 24th. 

Meanwhile, the army was still crawling, clambering and fight- 
ing onward from the seashore, in paths still further to the north- 
west, aiming at the furthermost bastions of Santiago, El Caney 
and San Juan. Sevilla was in a direct line not more than three 
miles, but these three miles took the exhausted soldiery from 
eight hundred to a thousand feet above the starting point. El 
Caney is six miles from Sevilla, and the army had no sooner 
clutched the vantage, than it was obvious to the group in com- 
mand that the advance must be instant or the army would be 
endangered. But the very completeness of the clutch on Se- 
villa, added to the mountain of difficulties that discovered them- 
selves, curiously enough, only as the troops advanced. For 
food and supplies vitally essential to the army and the guns, 
could not be hoped for in time to put the men in shape for an 
advance, or what was still more probable, a massed attack from 
the Spaniards, whose lines grew ominously closer and more 
compact, as they were driven backward. To add to the tor- 
ments of the time, a series of rainstorms poured down, and the 
soil where exposed to the sun became like partly dissolved 
bricks. Every depression in the ground became a rivulet, and 




■)\ mi/ 



EL CANEY MUST FALL. 919 

every riclge a waterfall. Roads, or what had been semblances 
of roads, became yellow streams, rapid and even dangerous to 
the infantry. There were veterans present who were reminded 
of the famous "mud march" of the Army of the Potomac, 
brought to a pause by the impossibility of moving over such 
footway. The dilemma was for a moment so serious, that sug- 
gestions were made to General Shafter to suspend the northwest 
movement, and by capturing a small town in the bay farther 
southward, secure a base nearer the investing line. But the 
troops were already enroute, and the northwest movement con- 
tinued and, whimsically enough, the nearness of the Fourth of 
July stimulated the officers to undertake the impossible. This 
was on the 29th of June when the council of war was held. 
Officers who had been part of the army in the Civil War, looked 
with some distrust upon the ability of our over-willing ranks to 
withstand the deadly volley of the Mauser, under the fatal dis- 
advantages of a powder that betrayed our lines to the Spaniard 
at every shot. At the least calculation, one Spaniard was in 
offensive qualities equal to five of the invaders. 

For most of our men were armed with the old-fashioned Spring- 
field rifle, which is as out of date now as the ungainly Queen 
Bess when the Enfield came in. The Spaniards could count 
on killing anything bearing the semblance of life at a distance 
of nearly two miles, and this had happened frequently under the 
horrified eyes of the officers. No tactics, no maneuvering, 
could compensate the invading lines for this almost super- 
natural advantage. Even that last resource of a perplexed 
general, movements by the flank, were unavailable from the 
density of the thickets and the lack of roads. 

Now, standing far out from Santiago and covering the ap- 
proach in every direction which we were obliged to pursue, 
stood what was called the fort of San Juan. But to reach that, 
the crenelated village of El Caney must first be in our hands. 
From the counsels came the determination to assault El Caney 
at dawn on the first of July, Generals Young and Chaffee were 
given the post of danger, while General Lawton was directed to 
swing around northwestward, to be in a posture to give the 



920 SANTIAGO. 

decisive blow. Reconnaissances were, however, essential, and 
General Lawton made these with three brigades. The gist of 
this resolution, so momentous for thousands of bedraggled 
soldiery, foodless and shelterless, became known in the mys- 
terious way that army secrets have of conveying themselves to 
those on the alert for them. The men dared light no fires for 
the Spanish grape, as well as the Mausers commanded every 
inch of the plateau carefully studied in advance by its defenders. 
General Chaffee, through the night edged his men through the 
death -pits to within striking distance of El Caney, where, by 
unheard-of toil, they entrenched themselves. Pits guarded by a 
thick ridge of earth, covered the entire force by daylight. In 
these rifle-pits, as they were called, the men found a reward for 
their toil when the fury of the battle began next day. The 
general and staff knew that the Spaniards had defended them- 
selves by all the appliances at their command. But it was not 
suspected, until the battle began, how intelligently, even 
astutely, they had taken advantage of every favoring un- 
dulation, preparing surprises where least expected, and masking 
ambuscades almost in front of the rifle-pits. But the invading 
force could neither advance nor retreat without the capture of 
this fort or series of forts. . . . 

The sun rises and the day breaks on the Cuban earth almost 
at the same instant. There is no slow dawn as in our northern 
climes, and as if in mirage the invading hosts saw the sun and 
the flash of the enemy's guns simultaneously. The advance 
was ordered. Then the fateful certainty of the Regulars' onset 
displayed itself. Wherever the fight fell upon the Regulars, 
there the work that the trained soldier is expected to do was 
done calmly, intrepidly, with no fanfare of theatric show. At 
a crisis in the combat, when the stoutly defended hill of San 
Juan was working slaughter with its Mausers, Lieutenant 
Parker of the Thirteenth Regulars made his way to an opening 
between that regiment and its neighbor on the line. There was 
a slight gap in the inverting ranks, where the ground rose to a 
knoll. Upon this the lieutenant set a battery of four Gatling 
guns of the newest and most murderous pattern. These four 




ARMS AND AMMUNITION, 1898. 

(For description, see next page. ) 



Arms and Ammunition, 1898. 

Numbers refer to illustrations on preceding page. 



1. Springfield Rifle. 

2. Krag-Jorgensen Magazine 

Rifle. 

3. Springfield Cartridge. 

4. Krag-Jorgensen Cartridge. 

5. 6-inch Johnson Solid Shot 

with Soft Cap. 

6. Sims- Dudley Pneumatic 

Gun, limbered up. 

7. Projectile for Sims-Dudley 

Gun. 

8. Maxim 1 ^-inch Automatic 

Machine Gun. Fires 300 
one-pound shell per min- 
ute.) 

9. Feed-box for Maxim Gun. 
10. 15-inch Pneumatic Coast 

Defence Gun. 
ir. 3-inch Rapid-fire Fletcher 
Field Gun. 

12. 10 -inch Breech - loading 

Rifle on Disappearing 
Carriage. 

13. Catling Field Gun with 

Gravity Feed. 

14. Fixed Ammunition for 

Rapid-fire Guns. 

33-pounder (4-inch 

gun.) 
9 pounder. 
6-pounder. 
3-pounder. 
2]/ 2 -pounder, 
one-pounder. 

15. Form and relative size of 



United States Service 
Powders. 

Cordite Smokeless. 
Peyton Smokeless for 

6-pounders. 
Lafin and Rand 

Smokeless for field 

and siege guns ancjj 

Howitzers. 
Hexagonal Prismatic 

(not smokeless). 
Dupont Smokeless 

for 10-inch Rifle. 
Dupont Smokeless 

for 12-inch Rifle. 

16. Colt Automatic Gun, 

(speed, 400 shots per 
minute). 

17. 5-inch Siege Gun, 

(12 ft. long, weight 
3,000 ft>s.). 

18. Hotchkiss 6-pounder 

Rapid-fire Gun. 

19. Hotchkiss Rapid-fire Am- 

munition. 

Armor-piercing 

Steel Shell. 
Shrapnel. 
Case Shot. 
Common Shell. 
Complete cartridge. 

20. Hotchkiss 2-poundermoun» 

tain Gun. 

21. Gun Mule. 

22. Gun-carriage Mule. 

23. Ammunition Mule. 



THE PITILESS GATL1NG. 923 

pitiless instruments ground out death as a coffee mill grinds out 
its aromatic grain. The effect was instant, visible, heartrending 
— even though it was the enemy who suffered. The bullets 
sent in a hail, unceasing, carefully aimed, withered all semblance 
of life, all attempt at cohesive resistance out of the blockhouse 
or its defenders. This significant episode had no journalistic 
witnesses. It was part of the prescribed work of the Regulars. 
It had the effect of half a brigade, but in all the dithyrambic 
details of the battle there is nowhere a word of mention of it. 
Possibly because it is the conviction of the volunteers, the scribe 
and the on-looker, that the Regular is in some subtle sense a 
creature of war ; that danger is his delight, his element ; that 
overcoming the impossible is part of his training ; that to deal 
death and make no display, receive death and make no sign, 
are part of the Regular routine. Be this as it may the Regulars 
redeemed all the precipitancy of the untrained, safeguarded the 
imperilled lines, even when the danger was as menacing to fly as 
to stay. These four well-placed Gatlings opened the way for a 
rush forward — that nettle danger which, when plucked, gave the 
rashly adventured mass safety. The plateau was an immense 
sieve of surprisingly concealed rifle-pits. In each rifle-pit a 
group of tenacious Spaniards clustered, showering the stretch 
of ground between them and the advancing host with clouds of 
bullets that fairly seemed to make the air black. But there was 
no halt, not the scintilla of a waver in the heavy column steady, 
devoted, lurching forward over the irregularities, gathering in 
line after line of the furious crevasses. But even when these 
were overcome, behind them uprose massive stockades fairly 
aflame with the density of the firing. These too the Regulars 
rushed upon, seized, conquered. 

Meanwhile, the ranks gathered about San Juan were waiting 
and— dying as they waited — for Chaffee's blows at El Caney 
were no longer a mere menace. In the very heat and fury of 
this triumphant furious advance this leonine fighter received 
wailing messages from his comrades in command, imploring 
him either to advance to the seizure of the blockading fort or 
retreat, as it was death to the other brigades to remain where 



924 SANTIAGO. 

they were. The message spread along the ranks and the men 
who had been out-daring dare-deviltry itself, took on a new im- 
petus. Inebriated by the opening volleys of Capron's guns, 
which by an inspiration of the commander, so ranged them- 
selves that they poured a concentrated fire into the blockhouse 
battery, the piteously thinned ranks seemed to increase in 
prowess, as they diminished in numbers. Capron's guns sent 
their missiles through the line of blockhouses knocking whole 
panels from the flaming sides. The effect was to benumb the 
defenders of the still untaken rifle-pits and to dislodge the gunners, 
who had been scattering death from these stone bulwarks. But 
though shaken, dying and dislocated, the Spaniards still had 
new coverts ; no sooner had our lines routed one rank of 
defenders, than they swarmed as if reinforcements had arrived, 
in another. 

At this juncture the commander, Chaffee, received again the 
startling tidings that the real battle of the day was going on at 
San Juan and that unless reinforced the decimated ranks would be 
compelled to retire. It was not an absolute command to suspend 
the more than half-won victory, but it was one of those crises in 
action which tries the judgment and reveals the soldier. It was 
the adjutant- general who came to bring this disheartening word. 
He was taken along the line, shown what had been accomplished 
and what remained to do ; the fate of the battle and the siege 
depended upon the outcome. The decision was left to Breck- 
enridge the Inspector-General, who was not in authority : " You 
must take the village," that official replied without hesitation. 
And thirty minutes later the wall of death was in the hands of 
its assailants. 

In the wild hurtling on-rush, Colonel Haskell of the Seven- 
teenth Infantry had orders to support the Seventh Infantry, but 
his predicament put his men in the very maw of the engulfing 
fire. There is a sublime egotism in the bravery evoked in the 
crisis of battle, the naive belief that the point to be gained de- 
pends upon the individual's effort ; it is the cumulative egotism 
of company, brigade, and divisions, that compels victory, when 
decisive results hang on the conduct of one man, whose example 



A VENGEFUL MAELSTROM. 925 

is a contagion. It was in this spirit that this admirable com- 
mander pushed to the front of the line. The volleys from the 
Mausers withered everything above the uneven surface ; it 
seemed to the panting men, worn with the upward rush through 
the woody entanglements, that the barbed wire fences had been 
flung enmasse — sped with satanic velocity, to scrape the surface. 
Barely had Haskell stepped a pace forward to lead his battalion, 
when he reeled to the earth. Lieutenant Dickinson of the same 
regiment, turning impulsively to aid his chief, was struck in the 
arm but maintained his ministry. The men were taking such 
meager advantage as the irregularity of the ground afforded, to 
preserve their numbers for the death grapple, and did not see 
the fall of their chief. But Lieutenants Hardway and Roberts 
among them, saw the disaster and called for volunteers to lift 
and carry the commander to a place of safety. The call was 
barely uttered when a dozen voices responded. Five went out 
into the pitiless hail and three of these were riddled. Colonel 
Haskell was dragged out of the vengeful maelstrom ; he was 
pierced with three severe wounds. His Lieutenant, Dickinson, 
paid for his devotion by another wound — which killed him. 

The assault led by Colonel Haskell was what might be called 
a tooth and nail conflict, for actually the men seemed to use 
their fists and feet as well as their guns. Haskell was a pa- 
triarch in appearance, with a long, white beard that floated back- 
ward, as he fled onward into the fire, the men of his command 
, actually seeming to crowd upon each other to stop the flight of 
bullets that came toward the veteran chief. The Spaniards stood 
to their arms with a valorous constancy that revealed what they 
would be capable of in a better cause. Indeed, to the educated 
on-lookers who could not take part in the battle, they seemed 
indifferent to death, determined only to wrest revenge from the 
foemen despoiling them of their stronghold. Fifty historians 
would be required to narrate in detail the heroic episodes of the 
half mile of conflict, that resulted in the rout of the masters of 
this fortified Golgotha, for the entire plateau was a place of death 
deliberately planned and valiantly defended. 

The first guns heard from our ranks at El Caney— the battery 



926 SANTIAGO. 

of Captain Hamilton, were equal to a reinforcement of a division 
of men — for it is one of the phenomena of the battlefield, that 
the soldier feels security, invincibility in fact, as the roar of his 
own guns breaks out behind him. For reasons never very 
clearly set forth, a movement of considerable concentration was 
ordered within range of the enemy's guns. That is, the line of 
battle which is usually formed outside of the enemy's fire, was 
carried on at El Caney and to the south and eastward in the 
agony and stress of the fight. The resultant slaughter was in 
the very nature of such heedlessness, lamentable. One regi- 
ment, the Thirteenth Infantry lost thirty per cent, of its number, 
the officers suffering out of proportion to the ranks. Nearly 
every man bearing the insignia of rank was either killed or 
wounded. It would be impossible to render more eulogistic 
testimony to men pursuing war, than the plain tale of what the 
right of the army withstood. Had the Spaniards known the 
havoc they had wrought, by a very slight reinforcement they 
might have compelled a retrograde all along that part of the 
line. Indeed had the Spaniards been of the fiber of the attack- 
ing forces, the right wing of the army must have been dispersed. 
Nor was this an advance, a conquest of territory to assuage the 
ravages wrought on the maltreated remnant. The dead lay 
where they fell ; the wounded encumbered the open spaces, or 
if by chance they were able to drag their mangled bodies under 
shelter, the prying eyes of the guerillas searched them out 
and riddled the torn bodies with volleys of Mauser missiles. 

But in this most trying of war's vicissitudes, no one saw a sign 
of wavering, a movement in retreat, by the able bodied. The 
work of concentration under fire went on, in the crucial points 
of the battle, from July 1st to July 3d, nor after the continuous 
slaughter of hours, was it found achieved on the noon of that 
day. In almost humorous keeping with the imprevoyance of 
the march, the provision of materials, food and what not, a bal- 
loon with unwieldly impedimenta was riddled by shrapnel and 
left to block the main artery of passage to the men under fire. 
The Regulars who marched in such order as the narrow way 
admitted, moved into line under fire and died in groups, were 



THE OASIS OF EL POZO. 927 

entirely unprovided with surgeons. The surgeon of the Seven- 
teenth Regiment, Major Ebert, was so exhausted by the con- 
tinuous calls upon him that he fainted in the middle of an 
operation and was revived by a Boston journalist, who by 
chance had enough cold water to bathe the fevered victim. It 
was the authenticated testimony of those at hand, studying the 
episodes and phenomena of the manoeuvres, that twenty-five 
per cent, of the wounded who died were lost by the lack of the 
most ordinary medical aid provided for the battle line. Men 
badly wounded, too much hurt to move without aid, gasped and 
groaned two days, where they fell, before hospital assistance 
reached them. No commander can see a whole battlefield, but 
any commander can foresee and so order in advance that every 
man and appliance needed in every conceivable emergency shall 
be within reach, or as nearly within reach as human prevision 
can bring about. Most of the errors and shortcomings, how- 
ever, were ascribable to causes far from culpable. It was to be 
on the line of fire, under the storm of shell, that the officers 
overlooked preliminaries. To illustrate, General Ludlow, the 
head of the engineers, so soon as the firing began, flew to the 
front to take active command, instead of remaining to supervise 
the mechanical details of his corps. 

Preliminary to the decisive operations of El Caney and San 
Juan, something of the work incumbent on a prudent army 
officer can be understood by a glimpse at some of the dangerous 
routine, involved in a rational advance over ground whose pos- 
sibilities for defence are unknown to the invader. In fact, to 
fully comprehend the endless and inherent obstacles meant by a 
war of invasion, it is essential to glance for a moment at au- 
dacities as thrilling in their way, though less inluridated by re- 
port, than the charge or bayonet grapple. General Lawton's 
division with headquarters at a dreamy little oasis in the wilder- 
ness of chapparal and cacti, El Pozo, five miles from Santiago, 
was from the 29th of June until the 3d of July a place of peril. 
No one knew what was immediately beyond, no one knew 
whether a path would take cavalry, artillery or infantry in a 
single step into the range of the enemy's missiles, no one knew 



928 SANTIAGO. 

whether the enemy was swarming in masked battalions, or 
lurked in the convenient forks of the trees to slaughter the un- 
suspecting skirmishers. Here again, the deplorable inefficiency, 
shortcomings or unwillingness, or as our soldiery expressed it 
"dog cussedness " of the Cuban "patriots" manifested itself to 
a degree that made it difficult to keep the volunteers, at least, 
from falling upon the worthless ingrates, for whom the republic 
had declared war. They refused to do or dare a single step be- 
yond the protecting bayonets of the Federal soldiers, though 
they had beguiled the commanding general into a belief that 
they knew every step of the way, and were holding back from 
attacking the " cowardly Spaniards," by the desire of showing 
their " generous allies " the difficulties which the patriot army had 
been compelled to face in the struggle for " Cuba Libre." Hence, 
to move forward over the ground prepared by the Spaniards for 
the destruction of whatever approached, after reaching certain dis- 
tances, skirmishing squadrons of topographical engineers were 
sent out, and these modest, not to say obscure missions, per- 
formed vitally important functions so far as they were called into 
operation. Unhappily, they were not employed to the extent 
prescribed by military ordinances, hence the difficulties which 
afterward beset what is called the " turning movement," to the 
north and east of Santiago. 

At six o'clock in the morning of June 29th, Lieutenant Guy 
Smith of the topographical engineers was directed to push out 
from El Pozo toward Santiago, and map every rood of the way, 
that the commanders might comprehend to an inch almost, the 
diversities of the terrain over which the charging troops were 
obliged to pass. He was given a company of the Seventh Reg- 
ulars, under command of Lieutenant Durfee, and these fifty men 
and sixty Cubans set out on what would be called a forlorn hope, 
under ordinary circumstances. A rivulet large under the rains, 
but dry when the sun shone, the Rio Seco, formed the starting 
point or rather the boundary, where the United States troops 
patrolled. The educated topographers set their instruments at 
work, every instant expecting volleys from the trees above, from 
the dense clusters of chapparal or from the thousand and one 



MAPPING THE WAY. 929 

natural hiding-places that an enemy, master of the country, 
would be apt to know, and the stranger could only find out by 
murderous experience. Hour after hour this breathless band 
crawled at much less than a snail's pace, for each man was 
forced to remain on the alert, his gun at his shoulder ready to 
avenge the death of the surveyors, immolated as it were on the 
altar of monotonous and inglorious duty. 

For, fantastically enough, to die in the scientific service of 
war seems to bring none of the acclaim, we so readily yield to 
the victim who falls in the charge, or in line of battle. A char- 
acteristic suggestion of Spanish inconsequence was found at a 
country residence, magnificent but deserted, the estate of an 
affluent merchant, sacked and gutted by the energetic Maceo. 
The place had been turned into a blockhouse ideally adapted to 
an ambuscade, had the Spaniards meant a " last ditch " war. 
But it was now a ruin. On the walls, incredible to say was 
found a crayon sketch of the entire chain of blockhouses and 
earthworks barring the road to Santiago. From this extraordi- 
nary carelessness the topographers were enabled to lay before 
the invading commander a fairly lucid plan of the circumvallat- 
ing defences ; though of course the natural obstacles of bush 
and brake, ridge and deep, were not shown. 

The little group of topographers had marched upon a plateau 
hardly more than three miles from the coveted city of Santiago. 
It was the first glimpse that any considerable body of the 
invaders had caught of the walls, and a cry of delight broke 
impulsively from the men, for even the streets, the houses, the 
time-worn tiles, the grey minarets, the romantic suggestion of 
an older world, dropped into the fanciful vendure of the new, 
before the ravished eyes acquainted only with our monotonous 
blocks, or our meager northern foliage. The ravages from the 
civil strife of Cubanos against Spaniards, were discernible in 
the broken crenelations of the walls, dismantled churches, a gen- 
eral decay wrought by the wrath of man, and not the ele- 
ments. The city, indeed, spread out like a vast, chessboard, 
slanting downward from the Sierra Maestra, to the pellucid waters 
of the lovely bay. Brown ploughed fields, once affluent in 
57 



930 SANTIAGO. 

coffee crops ; vestiges of sugar patches and the thrift of a 
servile race of planters could be seen afar off, checkering the 
sloping plateau, in dreamlike quiet, as if war had never been 
heard of. Between the surveyors and the ominous outlines of 
blockhouses, rifle pits and defensive embankments, spread a vast 
gulf of what seemed stagnant water, but what was in reality 
the lush density of green, growing in murky swamps. This re- 
vealed one of the difficulties that the advancing legions would 
have to meet, when the final charge came. The Cubans called 
the place a jungle, and jungle it certainly was, for in the attempt 
to penetrate it, crawling and slimy and fearful things were 
startled in repulsive masses ; vultures fled shrieking upward ; 
all of the uncanny forms of nature seemed to have assembled 
in this sinister bulwark, a thousandfold more ominous than all 
the preparations of the Spaniards to torment the marching men. 

In obedience to his consign, to make himself master of every 
possibility of advance, Lieutenant Smith pushed from end to 
end of the sweltering wastes and morasses, to mark the most 
available points of entrance. After hours of experimenting 
and exhaustive labor, dim woody ways, dark almost as caverns, 
were found here and there, where by agility and indifference to 
muck to the knees, it were possible to push on. It was not 
until after the Santiago blockhouses had been won by columns 
coming in from other than this direction, that the adventurous 
group found how far they had really advanced, further than any 
skirmishers that had come out on what is called the " Camino 
Real " — the state road, — not two miles from the heart of San- 
tiago itself. Here the Spanish soldiers could be seen loitering, 
drilling, occupied in fact in all the routine of barracks. Groups 
came wandering from the town, and some of them walked 
squarely into the Yankee ambuscade, never dreaming that any 
of Shafter's men would be so adventurous as to come within 
half rifle shot of io.ooo guns, ready to sweep the ground as 
clean as a lawn mower would. 

Mangoes were growing in many of the openings, and our ad- 
venturous group had barely settled itself for observation, when 
little bands of women and children wandered suddenly from be- 



UNWILLING WITNESSES. 931 

hind the walls or points of concealment, and began to fill their 
baskets with these, about the only food left to the poorer inhab- 
itants. The Cuban contingent watched them with ferocious in- 
tentness, until these unwary seekers were within reach and then 
pounced on them, stifling their screams to prevent the alarm to 
the soldiery, but a few yards away. Among the food-seekers 
two or three lusty youths were seized and taken back to head- 
quarters, for such information as they might be able to give the 
staff. One point of information gained from these unwilling 
witnesses, though they professed ardent sympathy for " Cuba 
Libre " was that, General Vara del Rey who had inflicted con- 
dign severities on the Cuban ranks in various encounters, had 
been compelled, even when marching at the head of his Span- 
ish column, to disguise himself in woman's apparel, in order to 
escape the sworn vengeance of the rebel guerillas. For a price 
had been placed upon his head, and the poor man was hardly 
sure that his own ranks might not take advantage of the $10,000, 
to sacrifice him to guerilla vengeance. The topographers 
counted on passing the night in this place of peril, but the 
heavens ordered it otherwise, for a downpour of rain began at 
the very moment an audacious advance was planned to sketch 
the altitude of the fortifications. This rain was so continuous 
that further attempts were impossible, and in the darkness of 
night the march back may be imagined ; the condition of the 
men subjected to the sticky soil and the hardships of the forest. 
As there are few things done by man, that seem to interest 
men so profoundly as the meeting of ranks in battle, so there 
are very few things under the contact of life against life so diffi- 
cult to reproduce exactly as the phenomena of actual conflict. 
This ought to be readily understood by every reader of war 
history ; no one eye can see more than the swift happenings 
directly under a circumscribed line of vision ; no man is quick 
enough to impress instantly the meaning of the movements that 
end in the victory of one mass of the deroute of the other ; 
hence, the thirty-six hours of really titanic wrestling which 
Shafter's army underwent, forms almost as many absorbing 
episodes as there were minutes in that agonizing interval, for 



932 SANTIAGO. 

agonizing it certainly was; to every man within the sphere of 
the Spanish guns ; not only within the sphere but far outside of 
it, for as has been said, death lurked in the most unexpected 
places. The Red Cross Samaritan took the wounded, no mat- 
ter how far from the line of fire, never sure that the tree above 
him or the thicket beside him did not conceal an enemy secure 
in the density of the tropical undergrowth. 

In nearly every one of the thousands of newspapers published 
throughout the United States, the participants and victims of 
the Santiago campaign contributed personal observation of the 
battle ; the combined testimonies, if ever collated, would give 
definite account of every instant of time from the moment the 
armada left Tampa, until the flag of the republic was flung out 
over the civic palace of Santiago. The abundance of testi- 
mony, while a reassurance to the historian, is at the same time 
an embarrassment, for many of the individual testimonies cover 
identical hours, minutes even, and hence, make a choice diffi- 
cult. But it is to be said for the first time in war, that the men 
who fought it have been its most striking historians ; every 
regiment possessed its Xenophon, and it will be difficult to per- 
petuate such errors for example, as defaced the allied battles in 
Spain as for sixty years disfigured — even the disaster of Water- 
loo. Let the reader, curious to make himself an image of the 
man in action, compare the vigorous sketch of Captain John 
Bigelow of the Tenth Cavalry, with the reports of Generals Kent, 
Lawton and Breckenridge, covering in general the same episode : 

" Our Tenth Cavalry was encamped over to the left of El 
Caney and we had pickets thrown out toward Santiago. We 
could see the fighting over toward El Caney, through our 
glasses. We could hear the noise of the battle and could see 
our men emerging from the brush and advancing to attack the 
Spanish position. We watched the fight for some time, and 
then came the order to lay aside everything except arms and 
ammunition. Of course we knew what that meant. We piled 
our knapsacks and other accoutrements together, and I detailed 
a couple of men to guard them. We had to guard our things, 
not from the Spaniards, but from the Cubans. 



AN INSPIRATION. 933 

" Soon after this, bullets began to come our way. It was the 
most mysterious thing imaginable. We could see them strike 
around us and hear them singing through the air, but we 
couldn't tell where they came from. We knew the general 
direction, but no amount of looking in that direction disclosed 
any of the enemy. It is a good deal of a nervous strain to be 
ordered to stay still while the bullets are skipping around you. 
Occasionally a leaf cut off by a bullet would come floating 
gracefully down to us, in an easy, pleasant way that made us 
shiver. We got tired of lying still and doing nothing while 
under fire, and as there was no superior officer around I con- 
cluded every command would have to shift for itself; I started 
my troop forward (we were dismounted) to see if we could get 
up to the battle line and take some active part in the affair. 
We pushed on until we got near the edge of the bushes, and we 
found our battle line retreating. The retreat of the battle line 
seemed to enrage and arouse our men, for suddenly all started 
forward simultaneously over a line a half mile long. I heard no 
order, and there could have been no order given along that line. 
It was one of those inspirations which sometimes moves a large 
body of men. Out they swept from the bushes into the open 
space, our men with the rest. I saw no general officers. It 
was every man for himself, and all for the enemy. There was 
no regular line nor formation. It was a straggling mass fifty 
yards deep running across the open and firing over each others' 
heads at the hill. We could see the dust fly where the bullets 
struck on the Spanish defences. 

" We were about half way up the hill, and I was just looking 
over the mass of men advancing up the steep, when I suddenly 
felt as if my left leg had been struck by a cannon ball, and as 
though my little finger were in a machine that was grinding it 
to pulp. It didn't take me long to find that I was wounded. 
It seemed to me that I must be horribly wounded. I was 
afraid to look at that leg for fear it was entirely shot off. I 
called one of my men who cut my trousers open and found that 
the wound which had seemed so serious to me, was only a flesh 
wound through the calf of the leg. One bullet passed through 



934 SANTIAGO. 

my left little finger. A bullet ploughed a groove in my left 
shoulder. The one which went through my left thigh I did not 
feel at all, and did not know it had struck me until some time 
afterward. The Spanish sharpshooters were in the trees with 
smokeless powder, and they stayed up in the dense foliage of 
the treetops, while our men marched right under them. Under 
these conditions, we did not know of their presence, and could 
not distinguish their firing from that of our own men. They 
had unchecked opportunity to pick off the officers, and they 
improved it well. About twice as many officers were killed, as 
are usually killed in proportion to the relative number of officers 
and men." 

The history of the operations before Santiago, however, 
would be a bare chronicle of cold official facts, without color, 
were the contributions made by the rank and file omitted. 
The human side of the battle was of course seen by the plain, 
private soldier, who, while nominally irresponsible, as a matter 
of fact has the crucial responsibility. For it is idle to say that 
the four or six officials, performing perfunctory duties, can 
move or in any sense change the volition of a hundred men. As 
a matter of fact, all battles are fought by the men in the ranks. 
But it so happens that the testimony of this handiwork was 
never so clear and striking, as in the astonishing conflicts at 
Santiago. Tennyson says in " In Memoriam " : " They speak 
their feeling as it is, and tell the fulness of their pain." 

What for example could be more elucidative of the mingled 
confusion and intrepid purpose of a body of men, than the 
adventure of Color-Sergeant Andrews of Troop B in the Third 
Cavalry. He was tearing up the hill at San Juan with the 
impetuosity of a boy, although he has been in the service eigh, 
teen years, and in the climb from the ditch while holding the 
colors tenaciously, he was knocked over repeatedly. He clung 
to his precious charge. For a moment in the melee, covered by 
the wounded, and helplessly entangled in the ditch, he called 
out to his lieutenant to take the flag, but the roar of the battle 
drowned his voice and, unable to rise, he thrust the standard 
upward. " When I could get my head out I sat up, and I 



"I GUESS I*M BOSS." 936 

could see the line of battle for a mile. There are no words in 
any language, that I know, to tell what the fellows were doing. 
The bullets came like the swash of water against the side of the 
ship, as I heard it many a night sailing from Tampa. The 
nippers would not cut the wires, and then you should see the 
men brace themselves with their guns and jump upon them and 
push them over. Sergeant Mulhearn grabbed the colors and 
planted them on the highest spot on the top of the hill. Fully 
200 shots were fired at the banner and it was ridled almost to a 
rag. My clothes were cut into ribbons, and I got to within 300 
yards of the main body of Spaniards, just as our fellows were 
capturing a regimental flag with the letter K on it. About that 
time, Colonel Roosevelt and Major Westervelt of the Rough 
Riders came up and I shouted to them to lie down or they 
would be shot. But they wouldn't. Major Westervelt was 
shot in the neck, and the fellows that went to take him out 
when they came back said, that as soon as he was bandaged he 
began to puff his pipe. Then when he found out he was not 
seriously hurt, he insisted on returning to the line, but the 
surgeon objected. He felt himself all over and remarked : 
• Well, I guess I'm boss, and I'm going.' He had barely got 
to the line of fire, when he was shot again and this time knocked 
out." 

Valiant men, who never dreamed of throwing the sheaves of 
their modest glory in the wallet of time for remembrance, wrote 
f private letters, which proud kinsfolk published for the comfort 
of others — for the emulation of future heroes. In the sub- 
joined, the attentive reader will observe how the writer verifies 
other narratives, and yet wrote only to transcribe his feelings 
and the scene, to those he loved. His kinsfolk had no idea 
that the official reports would identify the officer — but there 
were no confusing number of shoulder-straps in the first en- 
trance to San Juan. 

" We have been in Cuba now for twenty days. The other 
day, as we were changing position from the left to the right of 
the line, some soldier in the trenches called out : ' Have you 
fellows just got in ? ' A man in my company called back ; 



936 SANTIAGO. 

1 H — 1, no ; we've been here always.' And indeed, it seems as 
if we had been here for years, so many, many hot miles have 
we marched ; so many wet nights have we slept on the bosom 
of Mother Earth We were landed without transportation, and 
everything we have is what we carry. I have not even had a 
blanket. We sleep in our clothing and wallow in the mud. 
We live on hard tack, bacon and coffee. For nearly two weeks 
we have been daily and nightly under fire, except when a flag 
of truce is up. The great event, so far as I am con- 
cerned, was the fight of July ist. We were aroused at three 
in the morning and put in march at the first peep of dawn, 
over a road which we had built the day before. We waded 
through a river, and then were halted, while on our left a 
battery of artillery opened fire on the enemy, who was shell- 
ing our balloon. We were under the balloon, and you may 
easily appreciate the interest we took in the proceedings. 
Shell and shrapnel shrieked about us, the angry buzz and 
vicious bursting of the shells seeming to be on every side. A 
piece of shell tore through a man's thigh. The noise was terri- 
fying, the effect of shrapnel being dreadful when it hits. For- 
tunately, it does not hit often. 

'.' Our battery silenced the fire of the enemy, and we pushed 
on forward. Another river was waded, but it was only a little 
more than knee deep. On its further bank whistled the enemy's 
bullets. The men crouched down and rushed from cover to 
cover. We turned to the left ; thicker and faster flew the bul- 
lets, which tore seams in the hot summer air, all about us, above 
us, on our right and left, and at our feet. A part of the com- 
pany ahead of mine balked upon an open space. I drove them 
on, and my own company followed me. The regiment was 
soon huddled together in a bend of a river, surrounded by brush 
and trees. A few moments and the order came for Captain 
Turner's company to move forward ; another moment and Cap- 
tain Kennon followed him. Out into an open, grassy field, 
where the hum of insects was replaced by the venomous ' zipp ' 
of the deadly bullet. ' Not to cross the river.' Such was the 
order. Zipp, zipp, zipp came the bullets. The air was full of 



OUT INTO THE OPEN. 937 

them. What to do ? Nothing but stay there and be hit. Two 
more companies came up, and all fell back but mine. But I 
was ordered to join on the left of these, so I ordered my com- 
pany back. ' I'm struck,' called out a man. I hastened to him. 
His arm was bored through, and the rich arterial blood was 
spouting his life away. I called a man to help me, and while 
the bullets fell like rain about us we put a tourniquet on his 
arm. The bullet had entered his side. Poor fellow ! The 
blood was stanched there, and we helped him — carried him, 
rather — to a place where he would be sheltered from sun and 
bullets. 

" But our line had gone back. We took him with us, the 
bullets around us seeming almost like a solid wall of lead and 
brass, for the brutes were using brass-covered bullets. There is 
the colonel. ' Colonel, what orders ? ' « Move forward,' and 
forward again we went, the colonel going with us. He crossed 
the river, I after him, my company following. Here we 
breathed, for we were under the shelter of the bank. I placed 
my men in a hollow. The colonel sent my second lieutenant 
back with orders for the other companies to join us. The poor 
boy was shot through the heart after giving the order to two 
companies. I caught my breath and plunged again into the 
storm to see where we were, where the enemy was, what we 
were to do. On either hand were Spanish works, the one to 
the left being Fort San Juan. It sat on a high, steep hill, with 
a wide, fiat, grassy plain in front, and a barbed-wire fence for us 
to climb. Oh, that fence ! Many and many a fine fellow failed 
to cross it. There, dear Sandy Wetherill, the last of the ' Old 
Sixth ' left to us, was killed, a bullet going through his fore- 
head. 

" A line was forming in the field. I went back and brought 
out the company, forming on the right of the line. There was 
the rattle of war the loudest. The crack of our rifles and those 
of the enemy, the whizz of the bullet, the shouting of officers, 
the groans of the wounded, the sound of the light artillery, the 
bursting of shells. 

" We began to go forward. I got in front of the company 



938 SANTIAGO. 

and called, ' Come on, boys,' and the brave fellows went forward 
on a run, across the field and up the spur of the hill on which 
was the fort. Here we found ourselves ahead of the rest. A 
Gatli ng gun opened on the enemy with a noisy rattle, and 
with deadly effect. The Spaniards were firing from trenches, 
we from the open, but the storm of bullets from the machine 
gun seemed to shake them. I saw several run. I sent a man 
down to the regiments who were forming at the foot of the hill 
to tell them that if they moved forward at once the place was 
ours and begged them to advance. Then with my company I 
pushed on, and was the first officer to reach the summit. A 
few Spaniards were still there, the rest were retreating. I di- 
rected the arms to be taken from the wounded and dead Span- 
iards, and fire to be opened on the retreating enemy. They 
started to make a stand, but the others now coming up the hill, 
and lining up on either side, poured volley after volley into 
them and they sought safety in precipitate flight. An attempt 
was made later to retake it, but was repulsed. In the evening 
we were ordered to the left, and intrenched our position. 

"Eleven officers out of thirty-one, 120 men out of about 450, 
killed and wounded, that is the record of the Sixth on the 1st 
of July. Every day my company has been under fire, both of 
artillery and infantry. It was worth a man's life to stand erect. 
A bullet came within less than six inches of my head as I was 
taking my breakfast. It lodged in a tree two feet away." 

Even though the hospital and medical provisions were pain- 
fully, criminally stinted, the wounded Spaniards, like the wounded | 
soldiery of the republic, were tenderly cared for; shared the 
meagre comforts of the invading ranks, both in the Red Cross 
refuges and the military hospitals. This humanity which was 
so natural, that it was unnoticed by our soldiers, evoked a praise 
from the foreigners that is hardly flattering to the European 
conduct of war. Captain Webster of the Norwegian military 
staff, bore this testimony : 

" One thing which specially pleased me was the magnanimity 
with which the United States hospital corps ministered to the 
wounded Spaniards found on the battlefield. They were picked 



SHARING MEAGER COMFORTS. 9&$- 

up and placed in the ambulance wagons and carried to the rear, 
where they received the very best medical attention. American 
surgeons on the battlefield would bandage the wound of a 
Spanish soldier to stop the flow of blood till the ambulance 
wagon arrived. The hospital service of the American army 
is worthy of the highest commendation. 

" I was told by American officers that the Cubans killed 
wounded Spaniards with their machetes, but this barbarous 
practice was stopped by the officers and men of the United 
States army. 

" The Cubans could not be seen when an engagement opened. 
They know nothing about scientific warfare. The men are not 
trained ; they fight as an organized mob. The Cubans rendered 
very little service to the invading army, except as guides." 

A startled Briton, reporting the campaign for the war office in 
London, witnessed this characteristic trait : " In the whirlwind 
crisis of the San Juan attack, an officer leading Regulars was 
struck, at short range, in the cheek. The Mauser bullet made 
a small, clean hole, and came out through the side of its vic- 
tim's nose. He did not know he was hurt until another officer, 
seeing his face bleeding, jokingly said : ' Why man, you're 
wounded, mortally wounded — look at the blood. I don't know 
but you're killed already — look at the hole in your nose. 
You've got four nostrils, man, if you don't get plugged up, 
you'll be going about breathing like a porpoise.' With that he 
led his comrade off to the hospital, to convince him that he was 
disabled by holding a mirror to his face." 

With the third of the officers slain and twelve per cent, of 
each regiment incapable of moving, wounded or dead, a convic- 
tion suddenly settled upon the minds of the masses, after thirty- 
six hours of titantic wrestling, that there was neither victory in 
further effort nor security in retreat; exactly the frame of mind 
that precedes the dissolution of organized armies. In this junc- 
ture, many of the commanders on the night of July the first, 
urged General Wheeler to withdraw. They saw nothing but 
disaster in remaining where they were, and extinction if they 
attempted to advance. But Wheeler had been in dilemmas of 



940 SANTIAGO. 

a more trying sort in the Civil War. He had been surrounded 
by the bayonets of the Federals, and many a time had cut his 
way through massed ranks which were quite as formidable as 
the barbed wire bulwarks, stone walls and clay defences of the 
Spaniards. 

The crafty old Confederate knowing the effect of a combined 
remonstrance to a distant commander (Shafter was at the time 
ill on a transport) wrote to his chief, saying : " I presume the 
same influences are being brought to bear on you that are 
working with me. But it will not do. American prestige 
would suffer irretrievably if we give up an inch ; we must stand 
firm." And yet at this very moment, when hope was extinct, 
when brawn and muscle were at their last exertion, when the 
most ardent were chilled by the empty belly and the parched 
throat, cumulative causes were at work to end the extraordinary 
situation. Cervera's fleet was quitting the harbor of Santiago. 

General Breckenridge, touching the conditions on the night 
of July 2d, in his report to the Secretary of War, departs thus 
widely from the tone of official literature : 

" Doubtless, through telegrams and otherwise, there have 
been sufficient indications of the intense strain in the whole 
military situation on the field of operations which led to the 
consultation at the El Pozo house the night of July 2d, and some 
of the general officers favored a retrograde movement during 
the day or two prior to our intrenchments taking shape and the 
armistice being agreed upon. . . . Probably it is now evi- 
dent to all that it was far better to stand steadfast, and perhaps 
quite possible to advance rather than retreat so near the Fourth 
of July, and certainly we have demonstrated our ability to hold 
our own." 

While the enemy's flag remains in sight, while the embra- 
sures spit fire, and death comes in torrents, no matter how much 
has been won, victory has not been gained And though we 
had crushed the volcanic outpouring of El Caney, the thunders 
at San Juan and the mangled lines struggling and crawling 
through the gullies, lingering by the streams, made it plain to 
the rushing ranks of reinforcements, that the decisive point had 



DEATH IN TORRENTS. 941 

not been won. San Juan embodied vaguely to the minds of 
the hurrying ranks the formidable personality of the Malakoff. 
One of the extraordinary incidents of the battle as it arranged 
itself now, was the transposition of columns in the dense thick- 
ness of the undergrowth. The divisions of Kent and Summer 
crossed each other unseen, and when they emerged into the 
line of fire, they were found to be in exactly reversed positions. 
This itself will give a reader uninformed in military technicali- 
ties, a vivid idea of the maddening noise and confusion going 
on, within the eight miles of fire the battlefield comprised. For 
if two friendly bodies of men could pass each other, oblivious 
each of the presence of the other, how easy would it have been 
for an enterprising foe to place a force in a position to destroy 
legions moving at such disadvantage. 

It was late in the afternoon when the tide of battle became 
congested in front of what may be called the headquarters of 
the invading army at El Pozo. A battery of artillery which 
had painfully worked itself to this point of vantage, while by no 
means disconcerting the enemy, brought down upon the gather- 
ing masses of Kent, Summer, Lawton and Hawkins, the deadly 
fire of every Mauser in the enemy's blockhouses. Hawkins 
himself seemed to breathe the intoxication of joy under the or- 
deal. He rode at the head of his infantry brigade, across the 
plain and up the steep hillside commanded on three sides by 
fire, and pushed determinedly forward, absolutely unconscious 
that he was the best target of the thousands on the field. The 
infantry moved like a train of cars, with dismounted cavalry 
clustering by their side. It seemed as though they disdained 
to use the old-fashioned muskets, for they moved implacably 
forward, the brilliant colors of the flag accentuating the preci- 
sion of the line. Slight as the incident was, Hawkins' unosten- 
tatious tranquillity, as he took off his hat, with a slight gesture 
of courteous command, stiffened the sinews of the marching 
men. And it would be almost within the line to say that they 
met with derision the black flight of bullets and the shrieking 
canister, as they bore onward with gaping ranks, to the citadel 
of the enemy's resistance. 



942 SANTIAGO. 

Ordinarily., in fact universally, by the concomitant testimony 
of the European critics and monitors, this movement was a 
criminal impossibility. No soldier had ever been called upon 
to walk up to unbroken walls, to face, tear away, break down or 
in any way whatsoever, overcome thick networks of barbed 
wire, one strand of which suffices to stay the momentum of ten 
thousand herded cattle on the plains. Yet, under the fire of the 
Spanish embrasures, in the maelstrom of the Mausers, those 
who had the calmness to watch, could see bayonets twisting the 
wire, hatchets chipping them, or some stalwart fellow, with his* 
gun bracing him, trampling the wire and holding it down for 
the others to pass over. " It is not war," exclaimed the Ger- 
man attache, " but it is magnificent. Men who can make such 
soldiers as that could never be conquered by all the armies of 
Europe." And over the entire eight miles, heroic insanity of 
this sort was seen during these two abysmal days. More in- 
comprehensible still to the foreigner, accustomed to the methodic 
warfare of the books, whether by an oversight or the instinct of 
the men themselves, the bayonets were not fixed on the guns. 
Which either meant that our soldiery, as by an interpenetrat- 
ing, common consent, had determined to give the Spaniards no 
time to fight body to body, or that the enterprise seemed so 
hopeless that none expected to reach that last stage of despera- 
tion, when men meet, bayonet to bayonet, a thing very rarely 
seen in war. 

But the battle was fought by the colonels, majors and the 
captains: the division commanders, the brigade commanders, I 
had followed their orders in aligning their troops themselves 
saw the work that must be done and resolutely went at it. The 
darkness on that space of carnage fell as suddenly as the day- 
light came in the morning ; and while this herioc struggle had 
won the outward and almost invincible defences of Santiago, 
the last range of a despairing but undismayed army was still 
between the war-worn ranks and the city. 

Up to this point the soldiers felt that they had themselves 
taken the reins in their own hands, that they had done the 
fighting and whatever faults or mischances had resulted was 




UNIFORMS, UNITED STATES SERVICE. 



944 SANTIAGO. 

largely of their own doing. It was their own eagerness to seize 
the embattled lines in front, that deprived them of incalculable 
advantages of the Gatling guns painfully clambering toward 
them from the rear. A battery of these destructive machines 
at El Caney or San Juan would have saved half of the 1,500 
lives lost in the adventure. In fact, by common consent, the 
capture of San Juan hill was ascribed to the extraordinary in- 
spirations of two captains of the Sixth United States Infantry, 
and in days to come when the daring of the march and siege 
are discussed, the tale will take its place among the thrilling 
legends of military history. The Sixth lost 131 men killed and 
wounded, out of a total of 450 who came through the via dolo- 
rosa of El Pozo under the command of its colonel, Egbert. 
These 450 men launched in the dark, vaguely directed to cross 
the San Juan river and hold the foot of the hill, found them- 
selves as it were, isolated, that is to say, out of the reach of the 
staff guides and division commander. 

The hill uprose bristling with cactus and impregnable with 
the thickly set wires and traps prearranged for death. Up in 
the air, far above the Sixth, rose the ancient crenelated ruin 
turned into a fortress or blockhouse. The ascent from any side 
accessible to the regiment was by actual measurement forty-five 
degrees. The segment of the hill to be taken and held, about 
a third of a mile crescent. The river oozes furtively through 
an immense brake of jungle, wire, grass and all manner of cling- 
ing and obstructive growths. The water at no point fell be- 
low the middle of the men as they struggled through. Into 
this pit of gloom the Spaniards had prearranged a fire which 
was so well nourished, as the French would say, that hardly a 
leaf was spared on the taller growths, and it seems like an in- 
vention to say that a man of the 450 escaped from the down- 
pour of Mausers. It is no discredit to the battalion that they 
broke in every direction, not to seek cover but to avoid death 
in order that they might achieve the task set them. In this 
dispersion, the various companies were so dislocated that the 
men could not find their surroundings nor the officers their 
commands. In this blizzard of mingled death and confusion, 



WHAT TWO CAPTAINS DID. 945 

Captain L. W. V. Kennan of Company E, and Captain Charle 
Byrne of Company F, asked the colonel, in despair, what the) 
should do. The previous consign had been not to push be- 
yond the river until the proper supports came up on either 
flank, but to remain in the pit of death was to sacrifice the regi- 
ment uselessly, whereas by advancing, the range of the Span- 
iards might be disconcerted. The two captains just mentioned 
gathered together fragments of many companies as they came 
to hand. With this dauntless band, Byrne made at the wire 
palisades, where the men were already mowed down in heaps. 
He seized a machete from the hand of a Cuban, slashed an 
opening in the wire and, amazing to say, almost in single file 
the band poured through and as anticipated were for a momen- 
tous pause sheltered from the plunging fire above. But a harder 
task still fronted them, for the uprise was so steep that the men 
were obliged to pull themselves up by the bushes. And it often 
happened that the shoulder of one man was the stepping-stone 
to another to retain his footway. But there was a surcease 
from the Mausers, for the bullets went far beyond the squirm- 
ing companies as they painfully toiled upward. At the top of 
the hill Byrne and Kennan gravely shook hands in commem- 
oration of the feat done, and the work to do. On this glori- 
ously won point of vantage they found the brilliant and brave 
Lieutenant Ord, who had paid for his temerity in seeking the 
spot, by his life. With straggling fragments of the Sixteenth 
and Twenty-fourth he had, although a staff officer, taken it upon 
him to silence the fort that was dealing such destruction, and in 
the charge he was riddled by the bullets of a revolver in the 
hands of a wounded Spaniard. 

Byrne and Kennan, without a pause, concentrated the frag- 
ments of the companies that had clambered up the hill, and by 
what seemed a miracle of pure impudence charged upon the 
blockhouse, routed its defenders and ran up the flag. 

But the deeds of the day were scattered over so many points 
unwitnessed by staff officers and the agencies usually accounted 
on to make reports, that these extraordinary exhibitions of in- 
dividual courage and sagacity found no mention in the official 
58 



946 



SANTIAGO. 



reports. Yet this passage was to the general battle, what Hob- 
son's feat was to the destruction of Cervera. 

A witness of the adventure relates that the two captains moved 
entirely on their own responsibility, and that during the upward 
climb they became separated and as if by a mutual instinct on 
reaching the crest ordered the same manoeuvres. Captain Ken- 
nan made his men lie down and ordered them not to shoot at 
anything but men, and not to fire without orders. The men 
watched him eagerly, anticipating the word to advance. Very 
soon he ordered them forward. " The men's faces," Captain 
Kennan testifies, " were like the faces of schoolboys when they 
heard that they are to have an unexpected holiday." They 
rushed on eagerly, and found a road which fortunately saved 
them from a good deal of slaughter which other companies met 
in crossing a barbed wire fence that borders the meadows here. 
They lined up at one point with some of the men of the Six- 
teenth Infantry, but left them again ; they passed on up the hill 
— not directly at the blockhouse, but in a flanking direction, 
which gave them an easier ascent and then turned at right 
angles to face the blockhouse. All the way up Captain Kennan 
led and encouraged his men ; but not one of them anywhere 
showed any disposition to waver. When the turn was made, 
Captain Kennan found himself and his company alone on the 
hill ; he had supposed that the whole regiment was coming up. 
He hesitated a moment, wondering if he must retrace his steps. 
For one company, reduced more than one-half by the scatter- 
ing in the woods and the falling of men before the Spanish fire, 
to take the fortification alone, would be impossible. The captain 
sent his junior officer down the hill with this message : " The 
hill is ours if you'll come up ; for God's sake come." Mean- 
while, he saw other men ascending, and pressed on. At the 
same time, the Gatling battery, under Captain Parker of the 
Thirteenth Infantry, poured a galling fire from below straight 
across the edge of the Spanish trenches into the defenders' faces. 
Kennan saw the Spanish leaving their blockhouse and getting 
into the trenches, which was a sign of panic. On he went with 
his men ; and now he saw the Spanish, who by this time were 




~2^ 



b 








L 



STORY OF THE ANTS. 949 

menaced with the advance of other companies up the hill, aban- 
doning the trenches and flying down the back side of the hill 
toward Santiago. In another moment he and his men, now re- 
duced to about twenty, were leaping over the trenches, which 
they found full of dead and wounded. 

A British correspondent who had seen war in all the recent 
outbreaks in Europe, witnessed nothing so fierce for the time 
taken, or the sacrifices of life involved, than the advance on 
Santiago. He gives a few glimpses that the readers of military 
history will prize : 

" When afternoon came — I lost exact count of time — there 
was still a jumble of volleying over by Caney. But in front, 
our men were away out of sight behind a ridge far ahead. Be- 
yond, there arose a long, steepish ascent crowned by the block- 
house upon which the artillery had opened fire in the morning. 

" Suddenly, as we looked through our glasses, we saw a little 
black ant go scrambling quickly up this hill, and an inch or two 
behind him a ragged line of other little ants, and then another 
line of ants at another part of the hill, and then another, until it 
seemed as if somebody had dug a stick into a great ants' nest 
down in the valley, and all the ants were scrambling away up 
hill. Then the volley firing began ten times more furiously 
than before ; from the right beyond the top of the ridge burst 
upon the ants a terrific fire of shells ; from the blockhouse in 
front of them machine guns sounded their continuous rattle. 
But the ants swept up the hill. They seemed to us to thin out 
as they went forward ; but they still went forward. It was in- 
credible, but it was grand. The boys were storming the hill. 
The military authorities were most surprised. They were not 
surprised at these splendid athletic daredevils of ours doing it. 
But that a military commander should have allowed a fortified 
and intrenched position to be assailed by an infantry charge up 
the side of a long, exposed hill, swept by a terrible artillery fire, 
frightened them not so much by its audacity as by its terrible 
cost in human life. 

" As they neared the top the different lines came nearer to- 
gether. One moment they went a little more slowly ; then 



950 SANTIAGO. 

they nearly stopped ; then they went on again faster than ever, 
and then all of us sitting there on the top of the battery cried 
with excitement. For the ants were scrambling all round the 
blockhouse on the ridge, and in a moment or two we saw them 
inside it. But then our hearts swelled up into our throats, for a 
fearful fire came from somewhere beyond the blockhouse and 
from somewhere to the right of it and somewhere to the left of 
it. Then we saw the ants come scrambling down the hill again. 
They had taken a position which they had not the force to hold. 
But a moment or two and up they scrambled again, more of 
them, and more quickly than before, and up the other face of 
the hill to the left went other lines, and the ridge was taken, 
and the blockhouse was ours, and the trenches were full of dead 
Spaniards. 

" It was a grand achievement — for the soldiers who shared it 
— this storming of the hill leading up from the St. Juan River 
to the ridge before the main fort. We could tell so much at 
2,560 yards. But we also knew that it had cost them dear. 

" Later on, we knew only too well how heavy the cost was. 
As I was trying to make myself comfortable for the night in 
some meadow grass as wet with dew as if there had been a 
thunderstorm, I saw a man I knew in the Sixteenth, who had 
come back from the front on some errand. 

" ' How's the Sixteenth ? ' I asked him. 

" ' Good, what's left of it,' he said ; ' there's fifteen men left 
out of my company — fifteen out of a hundred.' 

" We have fought a great battle, but we have not taken Santi- 
ago yet." 

Indeed, without the guaranty of actual eyesight, the future 
student of war might suppose in the plain tale of Santiago he 
was reading an exaggeration of the memoirs of Napoleon's 
rough riders, Marbot or Nansouty. 

" It was the day after the big fight, and the road was busy 
both ways. From the front, the heavy, jolting, six-mule ammu- 
nition wagons were returning empty after dropping their boxes 
of cartridges at the firing line. 

" But not quite empty, for as they came nearer you saw that 



HUMAN AMMUNITION. 951 

awnings of big palm leaves were lightly spread from side to 
side. And then, when, with a ' Whee hooyah ! ' and a crack of 
the long whip and a ' Git in thar, durn yer,' from the Texan 
teamster, the mules swung round from the road up the steep 
bank into the hospital field, you saw as the wagon tilted that 
under the palm leaves pale, bandaged men were lying. They 
groaned in agony as the heavy springless wagons rocked and 
jolted. 

" ' For God's sake kill me out of this,' screamed a man as he 
clutched in agony at the palm leaves between him and the sun. 
It seemed awful that wounded men should be carried back in 
such fashion, but then, as some one explained, ' Guess there's a 
considerable shortage of ambulance traction.' And then there 
was a certain grim appropriateness to the proceedings of yes- 
terday. 

" The men had been fired as ammunition against intrench- 
ments and positions that should have been taken by artillery. 
It was quite in keeping that the poor, battered, spent bullets 
should be carted back in the ammunition wagons. But besides 
the wagons there came along from the front, men borne on 
hand litters, some lying face downward, writhing at intervals in 
awful convulsions, others lying motionless on the flat of their 
backs with their hats placed over their faces for shade. And 
there also came men, dozens of them afoot, painfully limping 
with one arm thrown over the shoulder of a comrade and the 
other arm helplessly dangling. 

" ' How much further to the hospital ? ' they would despair- 
ingly ask. 

" ' Only a quarter of a mile or so,' I would answer, and, with 
a smile of hope at the thought that after all they would be able 
to achieve the journey, they would hobble along. 

" But the ammunition wagons and the few ambulance wagons 
did not carry them all. For hobbling down the steep bank 
from the hospital, came bandaged men on foot. They sat down 
for awhile on the bank as far as they could from the jumble of 
mules and wagons in the lane, and then setting their faces to- 
ward Siboney they commenced to walk it. They were the men 



952 SANTIAGO. 

whose injuries were too slight for wagon room to be given 
them. There was not enough wagon accommodation for the 
men whose wounds rendered them helplessly prostrate. So let 
the men who had mere arm and shoulder wounds, simple flesh 
wounds, or only one injured leg or foot, walk it. Siboney was 
only eight miles away. 

" True, it was a fearfully bad road, but then the plain fact was 
that there was not enough wagons for all, and it was better for 
these men to be at the base hospital, and better that they should 
make room at the division hospital, even if they had to make 
the journey on foot. There was one man on the road whose 
left foot was heavily bandaged and drawn up from the ground. 
He had provided himself with a sort of rough crutch made of 
the forked limb of a tree, which he had padded with a bundle 
of clothes. With the assistance of this and a short stick he was 
padding briskly along when I overtook him. 

" ' Where did they get you ? ' I asked him. 

" ' Oh, durn their skins,' he said in the cheerfulest way, turn- 
ing to me with a smile, ' they got me twice — a splinter of a 
shell in the foot, and a bullet through the calf of the same leg, 
when I was being carried back from the firing line.' 

" ' A sharpshooter ? ' 

" ' The fellow was up in a tree.' 

" ' And you're walking back to Siboney. Wasn't there room 
for you to ride ? ' I expected an angry outburst of indignation 
in reply to this question. But I was mistaken. In a plain, 
matter-of-fact way he said : 

" ' Guess not. They wanted all the riding room for worse 
cases 'n mine. Thank God, my two wounds are both in the 
same leg, so I can walk quite good and spry. They told me 
I'd be better off down at the landing yonder, so I got these 
crutches and made a break.' 

" ' And how are you getting along ? ' I asked. 

"'Good and well,' he said as cheerfully as might be, 'just 
good and easy.' And with his one sound leg and his two 
sticks he went cheerfully padding along. 

" It was just the same with other walking, wounded men. 



"UP AGAINST IT." 953 

They were all beautifully cheerful. And not merely cheerful. 
They were all absolutely unconscious that they were undergoing 
any unnecessary hardships or sufferings. They knew now that 
war was no picnic, and they were not complaining at the ab- 
sence of picnic fare. Some of them had lain out all the night, 
with the dew falling on them where the bullets had dropped 
them, before their turn came with the overworked field sur- 
geons. 

" ' There was only sixty doctors with the outfit,' they ex- 
plained, ' and, naturally, they couldn't tend everybody at once.' 

" That seemed to them a quite sufficient explanation. It did 
not occur to them that there ought to have been more doctors, 
more ambulances. Some of them seemed to have a faint glim- 
mering of a notion that there might perhaps have been fewer 
wounded ; but then that was so obvious to everybody. The 
conditions subsequent to the battle they accepted as the condi- 
tions proper and natural to the circumstances. The cheerful 
fellow with the improvised crutches was so filled with thankful- 
ness at the possession of his tree-branch that it never occurred 
to him that he had reason to complain of the absence of proper 
crutches. I happened by chance to know that packed away in 
the hold of one of the transports lying out in Siboney Bay there 
were cases full of crutches, and I was on the point of blurting 
out an indignant statement of the fact when I remembered that 
the knowledge would not make his walk easier. So I said 
nothing about it. 

" I had to make the journey to Siboney myself. There was 
nothing more than a desultory firing going on at the front, and 
I had telegrams to try and get away. So I passed a good many 
of the walking wounded, and heard a good many groans from 
palm-awninged wagons. The men were, all the same, bravely 
and uncomplainingly plodding along through the mud. As 
they themselves put it, they were 'up against it,' and that was 
all about it. 

"And down at Siboney? Well, thank God, the hospital 
tents had been unloaded. They were short of cots, short of 
blankets, short of surgeons, short of supplies, short of nurses, 



954 SANTIAGO. 

short of everything. But, thank goodness, by squeezing and 
crowding and economizing space there was shelter for the men 
as they came in. And thank goodness, too, for the Red Cross 
Society." 

After the stifling fumes of battle smoke, the rush and hurry 
of charge and action, the heart of the commander-in-chief sank 
as he saw the sanguinary line of wounded dragging themselves 
past his quarters. But the killed and the wounded were not the 
only visible results of the week's marches and combats. Many 
were inanimate, or seemed so, from the heat, the water and the 
food. Shafter knew that if he could summon 5,000 able-bodied 
men out of the 16,000 on the rolls, he would be doing extremely 
well. Yet, he sent to General Toral, the Spanish Commander, 
a demand to give up the city, allowing him twenty-four hours, 
till 10 a. m. of July 4th, to comply. That time was extended 
from day today, until on July 14th, General Toral agreed to sur- 
render, not only Santiago, but much of the surrounding coun- 
try, with the scattered garrisons. Meanwhile, siege guns were 
brought up, and General Shafter was to some extent relieved of 
the burden by the arrival of General-in-chief Miles, who set to 
work to push reinforcements to the sorely worn ranks. 

But at last, the tedious preliminaries were brought to an end. 
The chiefs of the Federal army, in the presence of the two lines, 
Spanish and Yankee, met a short distance from the intrench- 
ments, and the last solemnity was observed. On July 17th, fol- 
lowed by a regiment of the Regulars, Shafter and his staff were 
conducted to the civic palace where the flag of the United States, 
replaced the banner of Spain. There was little attempt at the 
spectacular, but the masses who witnessed the scene were im- 
pressed with the indifference of the Spaniards. For both the 
citizens and soldiers seemed relieved. The capitulation re- 
vealed to General Shafter the amazing luck that had attended 
our whole campaign, for the forces surrendered were almost 
double the number brought to the island from Tampa. Those 
who had wrought incessantly for weeks were rewarded with a 
spectacle such as we had not seen since the armies of Washing- 
ton and Rochambeau were drawn up at Yorktown — the filing 



rs=S?^. 




GENERAL JOSE TORAL Y VELASQUEZ. 



(955) 



956 



SANTIAGO. 



past of an army corps, under the laws of war. Our soldiery, in 
this intoxicating hour of triumph, confirmed all the traditions 
of chivalry we have been accustomed to associate with them ; 
they gave the Spaniards no cause to regret the. giving up. 
Shafter himself like the stout soldier he had proven himself, re- 
fused to take the sword of the Spanish commander. In an 
hour after the flag of the republic swung out over the turrets 
of the municipal palace, the troops of the two armies were mob- 
ilized in the kindliest confraternity, 



Illustrations not paged 90 

Whole number of pages 1046 




